


Blind side

by Anneth_is_alright



Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 02:18:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4648509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anneth_is_alright/pseuds/Anneth_is_alright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor thinks that Troye is a narcissistic asshole who only does one night stands. Troye thinks that Connor is an obnoxious jock who is friends only with f*ckboys.<br/>They are both wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bland

**Author's Note:**

> College AU, warning for excessive swearing, slow build (not really though), the title has nothing to do with the movie of the same name (although it is definitely worth checking out)
> 
> Translated into Russian [ here ](https://ficbook.net/readfic/3769559)

**_"Don’t confine yourself to one particular type of human because I reckon things come out of the blue when you least expect them and don’t hold yourself to expectations..._**

"Ugh, what's the deal with straight boys and their love for tank tops?"

Troye followed Tyler's irritated glare, taking a sip of beer with a chuckle. "I don't know. At least, they are nice to look at," he replied, trying to howl down the blasting music of the party.

"Hell no. I've never seen so much armpit hair in my life, and I've fucked my fair share of bears," his best friend rolled his eyes and continued to stare, "I mean, they are on the swim team, aren't they supposed to shave their whole bodies? It's like basic physics."

Troye laughed a little at that, eyeing the noisy boys inconspicuously. He could concede that Tyler certainly had a point, but countered, nevertheless, "Still, they are quite easy on the eyes. I would do any of them any day."

Tyler just swatted his hand indignantly, "Honey, it's called 'cheerleader effect'. They seem hot because they are always attached at the hip. If you were to look at them separately, they aren't really that attractive."

Troye cocked his head, inspecting the four boys closely. They all wore similar striped tank tops, and shorts, two of them even wearing matching snapbacks, which made them look kind of alike, but Troye noticed that their physical appearance was, in fact, different.

One was extremely tall and skinny, with a tattooed sleeve and a pierced nose. Another was shorter, had messy dark hair and more masculine build, tattoos again scattered over his forearms and shoulders. The third one looked the most groomed, with his hair styled up in a tall quiff, and impressive biceps and pecs that Troye could appreciate even from afar. The last one was shorter than his friends, his face nice but not dashingly handsome, body moderately well-built but, apart from that, he had nothing memorable about him.

Troye scoffed, "Yeah, you are right. They look kinda bland."

He turned away from the obnoxious boys, who were currently engrossed in a game, flipping red cups gracelessly. "Let's see what Casp is up to," Troye led his friend away from the boys. As he was leaving, he heard one of them shriek loudly and swear at the others. Troye just sighed in mild irritation.

It turned out that Caspar was up to violently puking in the bushes in the backyard. Joe, pretty hammered himself, towered over him unsteadily, patting Caspar's back, as the latter dry-heaved.

"Gosh, are you alright?" Tyler crouched next to Caspar's form. The drunk boy just gave him a thumbs-up, clearly in no condition to speak properly yet.

"You need some water, mate?" Joe slurred.

Caspar shook his head, trying to steady his breaths, and stood up, wiping his mouth with a back of his hand, "I'd rather eat something. Do you think they've got pizza?"

Tyler fought the urge to poke fun at him, answering earnestly instead, "There is probably some food inside. Let's go check it out."

When they stumbled to the ruined kitchen, they managed to find on the table some leftover chips and hot dog buns without actual sausages, but nothing to satisfy Caspar's drunk munchies.

"I want pizza!" he whined loudly, with Joe just patting his back again.

"I guess, we could go to Pizza Hut?" Tyler asked dubiously.

"We've drunk too much to drive, Tilly." Troye frowned, hating to be the most reasonable one.

Caspar plopped down on the floor with a thud, leaning his back on the counter, with his legs spread widely, like a child. "Someone else can drive us," he wrinkled his forehead, looking at Joe in question, "Connor?"

Tyler laughed, "Connor is out there with his fuckboys, smashed beyond possible as always."

"CONNOR!!!" ignoring Tyler, Caspar yelled over the music from his position on the floor.

Apparently, it was loud enough, because in a few seconds a confused boy in a snapback appeared in the doorway. Troye recognized him as one of the boys about whom he was talking to Tyler earlier, the one with no tattoos or anything.

"What the fuck?" Connor seemed disgruntled.

Caspar pouted at him, "I wanna go get pizza."

"You have my blessing, Caspar," Connor raised a skeptical brow.

Joe stumbled across the room awkwardly, and gave the other boy a side hug, "Drive us?"

"No."

Joe hugged him tighter, "Drive us?"

Connor made an irritated grimace, "I'm drunk, Joe."

Joe grabbed Connor even in a stronger hold, his hands circling the boy's neck, tilting his cap, "Drive us? We know you haven't been drinking."

Connor pursed his lips angrily but sighed in defeat, disentangling himself from Joe to give Caspar a menacing look, "If you throw up in my car, I swear I will make you eat your own vomit."

Troye, wincing at the choice of words, exchanged glances with Tyler.

"Let's go," Connor patted his pockets, fishing out the car keys and helping Caspar up.

Troye grabbed Caspar's wrist with a worried look, "Are you fucking serious? He is fucked up, he's gonna get pulled over or worse."

Connor stared at him calmly, "Don't fret, I'm fine."

And looking at him, Troye could believe that. If before, surrounded by his friends, he seemed inebriated, his movements slow and his gaze glassy, now his eyes, glancing over Troye, were cold, almost dismissive, but certainly not drunk.

"I was sick last week, and I'm still on my meds. I can't drink just yet," he clarified for Troye's benefit, looking over to Caspar and Joe and leading them to the door. Before leaving the room, he turned to Tyler and Troye, "Are you guys coming or not?"

Tyler looked at Troye apologetically, "I'm kinda hungry." Troye just cursed silently, and followed everyone to the car, stomping louder than necessary.

The ride to the Pizza Hut turned out to be even less pleasant than Troye had expected, because somehow all three of Connor's fuckboys managed to tag along with them. Troye was pretty sure that even though the boy behind the wheel was sober, they would still get in trouble if they were to be pulled over, since there were currently eight people in the vehicle designated for five. Joe and Troye, being the skinniest ones, were squished in the passenger seat together, while other five boys managed to stuff themselves onto the back seat.

Tyler, slightly flustered, occupied the tall fuckboy's lap, but didn't utter a single word of complaint, to Troye's dismay. It seemed that Troye was the only one to be angry to be pulled along in an unsafe car with a questionable driver to get some pizza at 4 fucking a.m.

"Con, what the hell are you listening to?" one of the fuckboys asked, at which Troye tuned into the song. Oddly, it was the song he knew well and liked a lot.

"Fuck you, JC," Connor deadpanned, but switched the song nevertheless.

Do it, do it, do it now, lick it good, lick this, just like you should. My neck, my back...

Troye scrunched his nose in distaste, and turned to look out of the window, trying to tune the abhorrent sounds out.

The pizza place was predictably empty, given the late hour. Troye, still more drunk than sober, just slumped grumpily in the corner seat, his eyes searching for Tyler. His friend was standing at the checkout, in the middle of an animated conversation with Joe and Connor. The boy in the cap seemed to look incredulous for a split second at something Tyler had said, before bursting out in loud giggles. Troye noticed that his face and neck flushed, when he laughed.

Troye averted his gaze, when the group returned to the table, and pretended to listen to what one of the fuckboys was telling.

"...and then I told him that he could shove his money up his..."

"What's wrong with you, boo?" Tyler asked him, as he slid on the chair next to him. Troye just shook his head, reaching out to the tray to grab a soda. Unfortunately for him, Caspar reached for the same soda at the same exact moment, their arms colliding and sending the cup in question spilling on the floor.

"Shit!"

Before Troye could even do anything, Connor was beneath him, calmly dabbling the spillage with paper towels, swiftly collecting them in a cup, putting a lid on and throwing it in the nearest garbage bin. He sprinted over to the checkout and grabbed some more paper towels to wipe the table and the floor once again. Within a minute, the mess was completely straightened without as much as a single word from the boy.

Troye smiled at him apologetically, reaching across the table to grab his hand in silent gratitude. Connor gave him a perplexed look, before taking away his hand abruptly from the table, and didn't return the smile.

"You are such a mom," a hunky guy in a tank top laughed wholeheartedly, draping his arm across Connor's shoulders, "Always cleaning up."

"That's because you're pigs, Ricky," Connor laughed in spite of his mean comeback, and took off his cap to put it on Ricky's head, messing up the other boy's tall hairstyle in process.

Troye had to admit that without his ridiculous snapback Connor looked much better. His hair, previously styled up, fell flat against his forehead, standing up at the ends at random just so, which gave him a boyish look, and when he smiled, everyone could see how his eyes, earlier covered by the peak, lit up in joy.

He looked anything, but bland to Troye.

Following Troye's gaze, Tyler leaned into him and whispered. "You're so thirsty." At his surprised glare, Tyler just laughed his usual cackle and didn't say anything more.


	2. Attractive

It was three in the morning, and Troye was bouncing off the walls of his room. He was in the middle of a writing session, and, by his own estimations, it was good. Like album good. Music video good. Grammy award winning good.

Only when his stomach grumbled loudly, did he realize that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. It was just his luck that his mini-fridge was currently sporting only digestive crackers. Briefly wondering to himself, why the hell he had put crackers in the fridge in the first place, Troye put on his sweats and hoodie, and strutted to the nearest 24/7 convenience store, silently praying that they would have Nutella in stock.

Upon entering, he remembered to smile at a cute checkout clerk who usually worked the night shifts there.

Scanning the aisles lazily, Troye picked up some chips, frozen pizza, and Mountain Dew, eyes still roaming the shelves in the quest for Nutella.

"I've got it, Con!" a loud girly voice from the next aisle interrupted Troye's thoughts.

"Good to go?" the tone of the guy who answered definitely sounded familiar, although he was obscured from Troye by the beer stands.

"Wait, I wanna also get some gummy bears," the girl turned the corner, and stopped right next to Troye, her companion following suit.

"Oh, hi, Troye."

He looked up from the Cheerios only to be met by Connor's cool gaze, "Hi."

At least, he doesn't wear a tank top, Troye thought sullenly. And indeed, Connor was dressed in all black - a well-worn slim fit t-shirt, skinny jeans, and Converse sneakers.

"So..." Connor trailed unsurely, shifting his feet awkwardly, "What are you doing here?"

Troye eyed him in confusion, "Buying stuff, obviously." He shook the Cheerios in emphasis.

Connor smiled slightly, "It's 3 a.m. A little too late for that, don't you think?"

Troye rolled his eyes, blatantly looking into the Connor's shopping cart, which contained a bottle of wine and several extra size marshmallow packages, "Whatever. What are _you_ doing here, then? Getting diabetes?"

Connor laughed some more at that, before gesturing vaguely at the girl he came with, who was still picking gummy bears, "You need a ride? Because Beth's got her car in the parking lot."

Troye smirked at Connor tauntingly, "I'm a little bit afraid that you are going to make me eat my own vomit."

Connor's friend, who had just approached them to stand beside him, her arms full of Haribo packs, widened her eyes in astonishment, looking over at Connor scoldingly, "Please, don't tell me that you actually say that to people."

Connor's cheeks reddened a bit, but he refrained from replying her anything. Instead, he turned to Troye, "Need a ride or not?"

"Nah, I'll walk. Bye," not waiting for a response, Troye shrugged dismissively, turning around and walking away from the couple.

While paying for the groceries, he made a point of asking the cute cashier's phone number, still unsure himself whether he would ever call him or not.

Next morning Troye slept through all the morning classes. He managed to wake up only past noon, throw on his most comfy clothes, disregarding shower, and set for the classes.

In the hall he was immediately faced with equally tired Caspar, who suggested to flunk afternoon activities in order to get some coffee.

"Oh, and who do we have here?" Tyler asked rhetorically, as he approached them. "My two favorite sluts," with that, he pulled both boys into a tight hug. "Oh, don't you give me that look, Troye. We all know your sneaky ways. What was the name of that guy at the Korey's party? Jim? Nic?"

"Wes," Caspar supplied helpfully. Troye ignored them.

At this point, he felt that he had to live up to his reputation. Sometimes guys even looked specifically for him, having heard of him, which was flattering to an extent. He didn't necessarily take up every offer he received, but he had some fun experiences with several of these people. So, Troye considered, he was in no position to complain.

"Whatever. Wanna grab a coffee with us, Tilly?" He steered the conversation efficiently.

"Oh, oh! We could go to this nice place that serves lavender Rafs!" Tyler suggested energetically, while everyone agreed.

"What's up with you, Casp?" Troye inquired, "Why are you so down?"

Caspar just mumbled something incoherent in response, shrugging on his jacket and not answering the question. Troye frowned, dropping the subject, and turned to Tyler, "I wrote a couple of songs yesterday."

Tyler perked up, "Good stuff?"

Troye blushed slightly, "It's too early to tell, but I've got a good feeling about them." Tyler smiled encouragingly, clearly glad.

The three of them were sat in a comfortable warmth of the coffee shop, sipping on their drinks, engaged in a non-committal chat. Troye eyes wandered lazily to the window, when he spotted a familiar figure enter the place.

Connor, dressed in his workout clothes and running shoes, still slightly sweaty, was talking and smiling to a blond girl, dressed in a similar fashion.

Jogging and coffee after? That's some weird ass date, Troye mentally chuckled, before averting his gaze to the window again.

But what one was to expect from a douche-y jock type? He was certainly not above going out with several girls at the same time. Although Troye certainly wasn't the one who had the right to judge him.

"Hey, what's up, guys?" the already familiar voice interrupted Troye's thoughts for the second time in the last 24 hours.

Caspar rose to give him a half-hearted hug, while Tyler simply waved. Troye pretended he hadn't heard Connor's greeting, and the other boy didn't seem to be very much bothered about it either, ignoring him completely.

"How are you today, Casp?" Connor asked, looking at him sharply, "You missed morning classes."

Caspar scrunched his nose, something sounding off in his response, "I'm fine, man. Just tired. Nicola is waiting for you."

Connor turned worriedly to the girl, who was chewing on the straw of her drink absent-mindedly. With one final glance at Caspar, he bid goodbye and left the coffee place swiftly, taking the girl with him.

"I kinda starting to feel this guy," Troye said sarcastically, as the door closed behind them.

"What do you mean?" Tyler asked.

"Last night I saw him at the store with a girl, and here he is on another date."

Caspar snorted loudly, giving Troye a weird look, "That's his sister, mate."

"Oh."

Tyler laughed at Troye's mistake, and he just hummed in response.

 

Troye saw Connor again in the evening, at the Marcus' pool party. With Caspar nowhere to be seen and Tyler shamelessly flirting with straight boys just for the kicks of it, Troye, left to himself, aimlessly wandered over to the pool.

Well, he didn't regret it, because the view was not bad. Not. Bad. At. All.

The swim team members, in the matching swim trunks, were horsing around in the water with some girls, whom Troye barely recognized. He couldn't decide who in particular he wanted to watch more, but eventually his eyes settled on Connor that at the moment was giving a piggyback ride to a pretty girl with insanely long hair.

Troye internally labelled her as a "fuckgirl", since she was wearing the same damn snapback that every fuckboy was so keen on and even had a nose piercing to match. He silently observed as Connor easily jumped out of the pool, the girl still attached to him, which - Troye had to admit - was quite an impressive feat in itself. Connor, however, didn't seem to notice extra weight at all, as he marched over to a chair next to Troye, grabbed a fluffy towel and wrapped the girl in it.

"I'll go get us some drinks," he said, not noticing Troye or pretending not to.

Troye snorted in his cup, causing the fuckgirl to look over at him.

"Hi, I'm Lilly, and you are?" she inquired with a brilliant smile.

Troye automatically smiled back, and reached out to shake her proffered hand, "Troye. Nice boyfriend you've got over here," he stated bluntly.

Lilly blinked at him momentarily in confusion, before looking at Troye curiously, "Do you know Connor?"

"Not really," Troye shrugged.

The Lilly girl continued to stare at him suspiciously, when Connor returned. He was carrying two cups in one hand, while the other, to Troye's surprise, was wrapped around Tyler's shoulders.

"Hey, Lil, look who I've found."

Tyler just giggled maniacally, and slurred, "Hello, princess. Oh! Oh! You've met Troye, I see."

Glancing at him, Lilly drawled awkwardly, "Yeah, kind of."

Troye turned to stare at Connor pointedly, "Hi, Connor."

The boy looked at him for a second, nodded curtly, and shifted his gaze back to Tyler, at which Lilly frowned even more. Troye rose to leave, overhearing in passing the conversation.

"I've gotta go back to the pool. He's hammered again," he heard Connor mumble quietly.

Tyler nodded solemnly, looking serious for a moment, before patting the boy on a tanned shoulder, returning to his usual bubbly self, "Do a Baywatch run!"

"A what?" Connor scoffed, scrunching his nose.

"Like in the show, duh. When they run into the ocean in red swimwear."

Connor laughed good-naturedly, "See you around, Ty."

When did those two become such good friends? Troye wondered to himself, before being hugged by Tyler and dragged into the house to do shots.

Which, incidentally, turned out to be a marvelous idea, and gave Troye an opportunity to make out with a couple of cute boys here and there throughout the evening.

Until his eyes landed on Connor's half-naked form again.

Okay, maybe the boy was, indeed, attractive, with all his firm muscles, well-defined abs and a gorgeous smile, Troye mentally conceded. He walked up to Connor unsteadily.

"So," he started, unsure what to talk with him about.

The other boy frowned incredulously, "So?"

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Troye looked at him through eyelashes, even in his drunk state cringing at how stupid he must have sounded.

"Yeah, sure. Have you seen Caspar?

Troye shook his head.

"Or Joe?"

"Nah. Maybe we shall go upstairs to look for them?" Troye asked in his most flirtatious tone, sliding his hand gently over the boy's forearm for good measure, feeling goosebumps forming at his touch.

Connor seemed to catch up to what he meant, as his gaze briefly shifted to Troye's lips, before traveling up to meet his eyes again, "Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?" His voice was even, and breaths were carefully measured.

"If I were, what would you do?"

Troye swayed on his feet, as Connor harshly, almost painfully, yanked him in the direction of the house. He didn't let go of Troye's wrist, as he maneuvered them through the crowd, making people spill their drinks and swear, and led Troye up the stairs.

On top of the stairs was Tyler, laughing at something Marcus had said, his head nestled on Zoe's lap.

Connor roughly pushed slightly discombobulated Troye in their direction, "Your friend here is shit-faced."

"I'm not!" Troye slurred indignantly.

"He just propositioned me. That's pretty shit-faced in my book," Connor folded his arms on his chest. "Or does he act the same way sober?"

Tyler stretched his arms, "Well, yes, but can you blame him, Con? I mean, look at you."

Connor stared at Tyler angrily for a second, before shaking his head dismissively and smiling, "I'm so done with you, Ty." He turned to leave.

"You know you love me!" Tyler shouted at Connor's retreating form, then looked over to Troye and opened his arms. "Come cuddle with daddy, you horny twink."

Troye complied silently, only minutes away from falling asleep.

That was some weird pool party, he thought, as his eyes closed.

**A/N Caspar's 5 mil video gave me life, literally.  
Next chapter's title - 'Irritating'.**

**Also, this story is available on[wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/story/47819041-blind-side-tronnor-au) , check it out there. Or don't, you're a beautiful, intelligent individual, I trust you're able to make your own decisions.**


	3. Irritating

"Tilly, wanna see the 'Guardians of the Galaxy'?" Troye asked. 

"Sorry, boy, we've just seen it with Connor the other day." 

Troye sighed. Over the past few months, he had already gotten used to this reply. 

Frankly, he wasn't even sure that he was Tyler's best friend anymore. Everywhere Tyler went, Connor followed, every party, movie night or going out. They flirted a bit, cuddled on the couches, occasionally danced with each other at the clubs jokingly, and texted each other incessantly, but they generally acted like that with a lot of other people in their lives too.

On multiple occasions, Tyler, being the heart of their social group, tried to make Connor and Troye befriend each other through various elaborate schemes, be it making them buy drinks for the party together or strategically seating them next to each other during the drive to the beach. 

Well, it did not work.

Talkative, smiley, sweet Connor, once faced with Troye, turned distant and cold, making excruciatingly awkward small talk, while scrolling through his Instagram feed. When anyone of their friends was present, especially Tyler, the conversation was flowing easily, with jokes and light-hearted jabs thrown around, but even then Connor didn't look at Troye and didn't speak to him. 

And when they were alone, it was as if Troye didn't exist at all. One time at Zoe's place, while she popped out to the store, Troye spent half an hour doing nothing but feeding her guinea pigs lettuce, with Connor just silently sitting there, watching a movie on the couch. Admittedly, they were the most uncomfortable 30 minutes of Troye's life, and he had done a lot of walk of shames and morning afters in his time. 

Troye couldn't even describe how much Connor irritated him.

So, the next time there was a movie Troye wanted to see, he didn't even bother to ask Tyler, and went alone.

What he didn't expect to see at the theatre was the boy, who occupied his thoughts so much lately, slouched in the seat with a coffee cup perched on the armrest, gray beanie on top of his head. 

"What are you doing here?" Troye blurted out dumbfoundedly. 

Connor looked up at him and smiled timidly, "Hi. I'm here for a movie?" It sounded more of a question than a reply.

Troye continued to stare, stupefied, "Is Tyler here?"

Connor shook his head, "No, I'm all alone, actually. Do you wanna, maybe, sit next to me?" He inquired, moving up his jacket and coffee to the other side. Glancing over at Troye, he added hastily, "Oh sorry, you must be waiting for somebody."

Troye could have sworn that the boy had just blushed a little, "Nah, I'm also on my own." With that, he plopped into the chair next to Connor, and they fell into a strained silence. 

Two hours later Troye found himself in the passenger seat of Connor's car. 

"You can change the song if you like," Connor supplied softly, motioning to the radio, but Troye shook his head. 

"I like this band, actually."

"Really? Few people do." 

"Well, few people have good taste in music."

Connor gently laughed, "That much is true."

They barely spoke for the rest of the drive.

Before getting out and saying Connor goodbye, Troye asked, "Are you coming over to Zoe's tomorrow?"

Connor looked hesitant, "I guess we all are." Troye guessed that he implied all his fuckboy friends. "Is Tyler still coming?"

Troye was already reaching for the knob, "I think so. See you then. Thanks for the ride." 

On the pathway home it had occurred to Troye that, maybe, he could tolerate this Connor guy. He was proven wrong the following evening, however.

 

The movie night at Zoe's house was always pleasant. As, basically, everything Zoe did. 

She was the kind of person to remember to get a diet Coke or kosher snacks for her guests, or to stock an extra roll of paper towels here and there, or fold a couple of blankets in the backyard just in case. She actually made sure that the noise wasn't too loud and didn't bother the neighbors, and that everyone got home safe after. 

Her brother Joe was a different kind of person. He was the one who would make up his own kind of drinking games when bored, or undress easily per someone's request or without any, and hug every person in the room. Joe's job was to make sure that no one felt bored, excluded or tired, and he excelled at it.

Between the two of them, every guest was tendered to and practically forced to have fun. 

Troye sighed contently, before snuggling up to Tyler on the couch, silently observing how Caspar and Joe engaged in a joking fight about which movie to watch first. 

After putting the popcorn on the table, Zoe fell into the armchair, "So, Connor just texted me that none of the guys could make it, but he's gonna bring a friend over instead. Is that alright?"

Tyler hummed somewhat interestedly, "Guy or girl?"

Zoe looked at her phone, "He didn't say. Oh, he says he'll be here in ten." 

As promised, ten minutes later Connor knocked at Zoe's door. Troye was mildly impressed with the way the boy looked, dressed in a turquoise sweatshirt, which brought out his eyes, and sans his usual cap, a complimentary bottle of wine in his hands. He passed Zoe the wine, before introducing his 'friend'. Who, incidentally, was a girl. Pretty at that.

"And they say I'm a slut," Troye mumbled under his breath. Tyler, sprawled on the cushions beneath Troye, looked like he was about to say something, but closed his mouth and just chuckled to himself audibly.

"Hey guys, this is Jenn," Connor announced, going over the room and introducing the girl to each person individually. 

Troye's eyes followed his movements, not failing to notice how much physical contact was involved. He pecked Zoe lightly on the cheek, hugged Joe and Caspar tightly, his arm never leaving Jenn's back, he even tried to ruffle Tyler's hair, only to be slapped on the wrist.

"Don't you dare," Tyler faux-hissed, as everyone laughed.

"Hi, Troye," Connor sent him a polite smile, before turning away. 

No hug, no pat on the back, barely any eye contact. Troye was already used to that attitude and was adamant about not giving a fuck about it.

 

Apparently, 'Insidious' was too much of a scary movie for Troye, because merely an hour into it he found himself outside Zoe's house alone, sitting on a porch, a glass of wine in his hand.

He heard footsteps behind him.

"You alright here?" Connor asked with a frown on his face. "Joe is setting up the second part."

Troye just squinted at him in distaste, "Be there in a minute."

"Okay then," Connor folded his arms on his chest, and turned to leave. 

"What's your problem with me, Connor?"

Troye was surprised with himself for asking this question. Surely, it bugged him for a long time, but he never thought that he was straightforward enough to just ask directly. Must have been the wine talking.

"What do you mean?" the other boy looked at him inquisitively. 

"Why do you hate me so much?" Troye asked bitterly. 

The shock on Connor's face was replaced with something softer, as he knelt in front of Troye, "You know that I don't hate you, right?" He looked almost concerned. 

Troye turned so he could face him properly, "You don't like me either."

Connor didn't reply for a minute, choosing words carefully, "I don't have to like you."

Troye shook his head, smiling insincerely, "That's not an answer."

"Sounds like a pretty good answer to me."

"I'm not saying you have to like me. I just want to know why you don't," he burst out laughing, probably sounding like a madman, "It's like if sun shone on everyone, but for you it was always raining, and there was no reason why." Troye took in Connor's pursed lips and frustrated expression, before continuing, "What is so fundamentally wrong with me, Connor? You are friends with pretty much everyone and, yet, you don't even try with me?!" he could tell that he was shouting but didn't care at this point. 

Connor chuckled disappointedly, "I'm so tired of your shit."

Troye's eyes bulged, "Of my shit?! My?! I'm not the one giving you a silent treatment just because I'm apparently not cool enough for you and your fuckboys. I know that's not because I'm gay since you're fucking BFF with Tyler." Connor's eyes slanted at that. "So I ask again, what is your problem with me?!"

The other boy didn't answer for a long time, taking measured breaths in attempt to calm himself. After a minute, he asked unexpectedly, his eyes cold and voice clipped, "Did you know that Caspar's girlfriend broke up with him?"

Troye stopped in his tracks, looking at Connor in confusion, not replying. 

"I bet you didn't even know that Caspar had a girlfriend, am I right?" at that Troye nodded, prompting Connor to continue. "Did you know that Zoe's and Joe's parents are getting a divorce? Did you know that Tyler will probably move to San Francisco because his mom is sick?" Connor scrunched his nose, "I understand that you are some sort of music genius and all but you are so messed up in your slutty Kurt Cobain bullshit, Troye, that you can't even grasp that not everything in this world is about you."

Troye felt dampness on his cheeks. He wiped the tear away swiftly, and put down the glass he was still holding in his hands, "I hate you so fucking much," he whispered angrily. 

That seemed to really hurt Connor because he was looking at Troye with vulnerable, almost frightened, expression.

"What's going on here?" wide-eyed Joe, a bottle of beer forgotten in his hand, was standing in the doorframe. 

Connor was the first to snap out of it, "Jenn and I should probably go. See you later."

With that, he was gone. Troye just looked at his back, more tears spilling down his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter - 'Intriguing'


	4. Intriguing

Troye overslept his morning classes again. Lying across the bed in his yesterday's clothes, he pondered whether the rest of his classes were worth the impeding headache. The 'screw it' attitude winning over, he turned to lie on his stomach, when his phone chimed, indicating a text from an unknown number. 

_Hey Troy, it's Connor, I just wanted to say sorry for yesterday_  
_I didn't mean to tell you that and I was drunk_  
_I know it's not a valid excuse. anyways I'm sorry again_

Troye threw his phone away irritatedly, and decided to ignore it for the sake of some more sleep. Thirty seconds later, though, he was typing menacingly. 

_That's not my name idiot_

His phone chimed again. 

_Sorry then, wrong number_

Troye huffed in frustration. This dork. 

_No, it's Troye you fucking dickhead_

He tapped his fingers against the phone cover impatiently, as Connor was typing out his reply.

_I'll let it slide since I probably deserve it this time but I don't appreciate the language troyE_

The boy laughed at that a little. He decided to be nice for a change, since Connor for once was actually behaving. Troye also remembered the hurt look on his face, and as much as he put on pretenses, in reality he had to admit at least to himself, that he didn't like hurting people. Especially if they were generally so happy, like Connor was. 

_I'm sorry too._

There. Nothing too sappy. Just admitting that he was also in the wrong, as a proper gentleman would. Another text from Connor came.

_:)_

Fucking idiot.

Troye buried his head into the covers, and tried to fall asleep. Buzz from his phone - again - prevented it. This time it was Tyler. 

_Wanna come over to watch movies? still a bit hungover(_

Troye sighed grumpily, before looking over at the clock on his bedside table. It didn't look like the universe would let him sleep anyways. 

He texted Tyler his consent, and rose from his bed. 

 

Tyler's place was eerily quiet, without his usual track list of Lady Gaga and Beyoncé pumping thorough the rooms. Upon entering, Troye was greeted with a sight of the host himself, sprawled in a star shape on the couch in his living room, his glasses forgotten at the coffee table next to a pack of Advil. 

He just hummed something incoherent, when Troye walked in, and patted the cushion next to his head in invitation. 

"How are you feeling, Tilly?"

The blonde grunted in response, "Like I've been fucked in the head by a sledgehammer. Did you sort everything out with Con?"

Troye's eyes widened, "How do you know?" 

Tyler grunted irritatedly, "That little shit texted me at, like, 7 a.m. asking for your number. I mean, I'm used to guys begging for your contact info but not this fucking early in the morning."

Troye couldn't help but laugh at Tyler's antics.

"What the hell happened to you two yesterday?" the latter continued rambling on. "I swear, everyone within 10 miles heard you shouting."

Troye leaned on the couch, his head thrown back, "I don't know, Tilly, I really don't."

"Are you sure? I mean, I've never seen him so... sad."

Troye gave Tyler a friendly pat on the head, muttering to himself almost inaudibly, guilt eating at his insides, "Yeah, because he's a freaking sun, right?"

He wasn't sure whether Tyler didn't hear him or just chose to disregard what he had said, because he didn't answer. 

"Hey, Ty?"

Tyler hummed questioningly in response, already half asleep.

"When were you gonna tell me you're leaving?"

Tyler's gaze snapped up to Troye's face instantaneously, while his hand was searching for the glasses absently, "Did Connor tell you?" Tyler huffed, "Of course, he did. He's the only one who knows."

Troye didn't reply, continuing to stare at his friend. 

"I _would_ have told you eventually, Troye, I promise. I just sorta have a lot on my plate right now."

Troye flinched at the word 'eventually', but ignored the bitter bile rising in his throat. Instead, he put his fingers through his best friend's hair, "I'm so sorry." 

Tyler seemed to understand what Troye was sorry about. 

They just sat there, leaning on each other, until Tyler drifted off to sleep and Troye followed soon after. 

They both woke up with a startle, when someone knocked on the door.

"Come on, Tyler, open up! I've got coffee and food!"

Troye groaned, recognizing the voice, and felt Tyler leap off the couch clumsily. 

"Hi Con," Tyler gave Connor a tight hug, grabbing the drink and the paper bag full of food from him, "You are the best."

Troye rolled his eyes at that with a hint of jealousy as Connor replied joyfully, "Well, you'd better appreciate it because I literally had to beg Kian to drive through a Taco Bell on our wa... Oh, hi Troye." Connor seemed quite taken aback upon seeing him in Tyler's living room.

Troye shifted uncomfortably in his spot, "Hi. Ty invited me to watch some movies, but we kinda fell asleep. I guess it's time for me to go."

Connor looked hesitant for a moment, before taking a seat on the couch, espadrilles-clad feet stretched beneath him, "You might as well stay." He sent Troye a small smile, "We were going to watch something too."

Troye nodded shyly and scooted over, so Tyler, who was already digging into the burrito, could take a seat between them. 

 

"I just love Matthew McConnaughey!" Tyler drawled dreamily, staring intently at the screen, where 'Magic Mike' was currently on. "Who do you prefer?"

Troye looked away from the movie, and opened his mouth to respond, but he was cut off. 

"The young one is cute," Connor supplied nonchalantly, munching on his nachos absent-mindedly. Troye whipped his head to stare at him.

Tyler scrunched his nose, not oblivious to Troye's astonishment though. "I just don't feel that he would be a good lay. What do you think, Troye?"

Troye coughed, "Yeah, sure." He paused, then added, "I don't know really." 

He kept his mouth shut for the rest of the movie.

As the final scene was about to end, Tyler wrapped his arms around both Connor's and Troye's shoulders, embracing them tightly, "Come here." Troye heard him sniff, as he continued, "I'm gonna miss you two so fucking much."

Connor complied, laying his head in the crook of Tyler's shoulder, his free hand sprayed on his stomach. 

Troye said, not really addressing anyone, "Everything's gonna be fine. We are going to be fine."

He didn't believe it for one second. 

Their comfortable silence was broken by a loud beep from Connor's phone. He disentangled himself from the hug, "Shit, Kian's already here. I've gotta go."

Speaking of the devil, Kian was already banging at the door. Tyler rolled his eyes, and marched over to let him in.

Troye watched as a tall smirking boy walked into the room, his eyes briefly darting over Troye, but ultimately landing on Connor's form, "What's up?"

Connor sighed tiredly, "Not much. Just watched 'Magic Mike'."

"Of course you did," Kian rolled his eyes with a chuckle, "Let's go. Andrea's waiting." 

Connor complied sullenly, his movements slow and lacking in usual energy. Kian raised a questioning eyebrow at that, "What crawled up your fat ass?"

Connor scowled back at him, "Piss off."

Kian's face softened a fraction. He wrapped his hand around Connor, the height difference making it almost resemble a headlock, "What's up with you, Con da Bon? Wanna go get this soy latte frappuccino bullshit you always drink at Starbucks?"

At that Connor managed a small smile, "Won't Andrea be mad we are late?"

Kian looked down on the cracked screen of his phone, "She's mad already so we've got nothing to lose."

Troye watched Connor mumble both him and Tyler a quiet goodbye, before following Kian to the car, the tinge of sadness gradually leaving his features. 

Tyler shook his head fondly, curling on the couch once again, "These two."

Troye gave him an exasperated look, finally asking out loud the question he was mulling over the previous couple of hours, "So he is into boys then?"

Tyler seemed to understand who Troye was talking about, "As much as you are."

It wasn't a complete surprise to Troye, but verbal confirmation still left him in shock, "I didn't know that. I mean, he's always flirting with girls and stuff."

Tyler looked at him curiously and snorted, "I wouldn't call that flirting exactly. He's from Minnesota," he supplied, as if it explained everything. At Troye's confused stare, he clarified, "They are generally extremely nice people there."

"Are you two a thing then? Cuz that would have explained a lot. I mean, you are always together and doing things, and this time at the club when you two went to the restroom..."

"Let me stop your rambling right here, Troye," Tyler pursed his lips imperiously. "I admit that the idea has crossed my mind but... We just don't have that spark."

Troye's mind wandered back to Kian, "So, is he into someone from the swim team?"

Tyler gave him an unimpressed look, "Ugh. Troye, stop obsessing over a poor guy. If you wanna know if he's single, just ask him."

Troye blushed, offended, "I'm not obsessing. Intrigued maybe."

"Whatever you say, honey."

Troye just pouted, and kept his musings to himself further on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next one - "Sad"


	5. Sad

It was two a.m. when Connor called him.

Troye was crouched in front of his computer, fumbling with the musical keys, which were sitting precariously on his lap. He was so startled to see contact name of 'Connor fuckboy' on his screen that he accidentally declined the call and, after some hesitation, had to call back.

"Troye?" He was greeted with a faint whisper. 

"Yeah, it's me. Is everything alright?" Troye asked, as he heard a muffled sigh. Cursing silently, he put away the keys and walked up to the window. 

"I hate that I'm calling you," Connor confessed. 

Troye scoffed, "I'm not crazy about it either. Now tell me what's wrong," he demanded. 

Connor sighed again, "You know that feeling when nothing seems right anymore?"

"Last time I had that kind of thoughts, I came out," Troye chuckled.

"Okay, but I'm already out."

They were silent for a minute, before it occurred to Troye that Connor didn't intend on going on. He inquired, "So what is wrong exactly? Is this about Tilly?"

Once again, silence fell upon them, only to be broken by Connor this time, "No, I guess. Not entirely." After a pause, he added suddenly, "You are the most selfish person I know."

"Gee, you sure know how to make a guy swoon."

He heard Connor laugh quite on the other side of the phone and say, "Actually, that's I'm calling you. That, and because I know that you don't sleep at night. May I ask you something?"

Troye nodded. 

"Troye? Are you there?" Connor's voice was slightly worried. 

"Yeah, I'm here."

He heard a hint of smile in Connor's voice, "Did you just nod over the phone?"

"Keep up the sass, and I will hang up. Now ask what you want."

When Connor finally answered, it was definitely not something Troye had expected, "How do you hurt people you love?"

Troye's eyes widened. He hesitated before responding, "You just don't. That's kinda the point of love." 

"But if it doesn't make you happy, what do you do?" 

Troye immediately thought about numerous night he spent over at Tyler's place.

When they both were drunk and just crashed on the couch, tangled limbs and sleepy eyes. When one of them - or both - leaned in for a kiss, and the other responded, and everything gradually turned into a heavy make out session in the living room.

He thought about how good it felt and how wrong it was, and he thought about that sense of longing he had when Tyler gently pushed him away, and he thought about the times when it was him who stopped the kisses because it just didn't feel right. 

They never took this one step that brings friends to lovers, and although Troye knew that at some point it pained them both, in the long run their friendship was much more valuable than a drunk hookup. He also knew that Tyler understood that and silently agreed.

"Connor, can I ask you a question?" the other boy sounded confused, but answered positively nonetheless, so Troye went on, "When you love someone, do you want to see them happy?" 

"Yes," his response was instantaneous and unconditional.

"So if this person you are afraid to hurt..."

"People," Connor corrected. 

"So if these people really love you, then they would understand that you do what you do for your own happiness. And you're entitled to it as much as they are. If they don't understand that, they are not worth the trouble. Just do what makes you happy."

It took him a while to process what Troye had said, "That actually even made some sense." Connor sounded surprised. 

Troye laughed at that, "See? I'm not as stupid as you think."

"I don't think you are stupid."

"Sure thing. You just think I'm a narcissistic asshole."

For a second, Troye thought that Connor would argue with that, but he didn't. Oddly enough, Troye didn't feel offended.

Connor suddenly asked, "Remember that day at the movies?" He continued when Troye indicated that he did, "Why were you alone there? I mean, you could have brought someone with you."

Troye pressed his face against the cold surface of window, his voice echoing weirdly from the glass, "I knew that if I had asked Tyler, he would have already had plans with you anyway, and I didn't invite anyone else because I don't have as many friends as you do."

Connor sounded amused for a change, "We both know that it is not exactly true, now don't we?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Troye perked up. 

"You seem to have a lot of... male companions," when Troye didn't reply, Connor went on, "You could invite that checkout clerk from the grocery store, for instance."

So Connor had seen that interaction. Troye flinched, "I never went out with him. Ever." He cringed at how defensive it sounded. 

"He's cute, and seems very nice."

Troye smirked, "I don't go for nice."

"So I've heard."

Troye briefly wondered what Connor had heard exactly but he decided to respond in another way, "Since you insist so much, I'll give him a call." 

"I insist? Wh-?" Connor sounded flustered, "I did say no such thing."

"Sure-sure, Connie," Troye teased. 

"No one ever called me _that_."

"Sorry."

Connor laughed, "No, no, I don't mind at all. It's cute."

"Well, it fits you then," the response came naturally to him, almost automatic from all the years of meaningless flirting. Troye's hand flew over his mouth with a smack when he realized what he had said. 

"Will you stop it already?" to Troye's surprise, Connor didn't sound pissed, but entertained.

"Stop what?" Troye feigned innocence, although he knew perfectly well what Connor meant.

"Hitting up on me. I'm not your average checkout boy, I'm trying to be your friend here."

Again, Troye preferred to steer the conversation away from serious topics into the areas he was most familiar with, "Friend? Okay. You know what a good friend would do? Hook me up with someone from the swim team. What about this Ricky guy? What's the scoop about him?" Troye made a point of sounding as obnoxious as possible.

"And this is my cue to go. Good night, Troye."

Troye burst out in giggles, "Night, Connie."

As he hung up, his cheeks were flaming, but he was still smiling impossibly wide when he updated contact info in his phone. Troye was glad that he could help the sad boy to feel a tiny bit better about himself. 

The following morning, when he woke up, he had a new text.

**From: Connie**

_Thanks for the talk, Troye boy:)_

Troye decided against replying anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter - "Cute"


	6. Cute

Troye entered the coffee shop, his eyes wandering over the group of his friends, occupying the table in the further corner. Ricky and Zoe were laughing to the point where they were red at something Tyler was saying, while Connor hid his face in his hands from embarrassment. Troye smiled when he noticed that tips of the boy's ears were blushing along with his face.

"What's up?" Troye asked curiously, his eyes settling on Tyler, waiting for the response. 

It was Zoe who squealed loudly instead, "Guess who has got himself a hot date?" 

At that Connor groaned, and buried his face deeper, "Sometimes I hate you guys."

Troye cocked an eyebrow inquisitively, shifting his gaze to Zoe, "A hot date?"

From his hidden position, Connor countered, "It's not a date! I haven't agreed to anything!" before ducking his head shyly again.

"Only the hottest guy ever just asked Con-Con out in the middle of the coffee shop, no big deal," Zoe was ecstatic about it. "I mean, he is handsome, and sweet, and artsy, and smart, and superfit, and he seems so much into Connor already," she trailed off dreamily.

As Troye looked over at Ricky and Tyler, both guys in question just nodded in confirmation. 

"I haven't agreed to anything," Connor repeated indignantly, peeking at Troye from behind his palms.

"Why not?" Troye asked, meeting his gaze for the first time.

"You think I should?" Connor replied quietly, looking back. 

Tyler helpfully intercepted, "Well duh! I mean, Joey is the hottest piece of ass in this hellhole." He winked at Ricky, "Present company excluded."

Troye frowned, "Joey? As in Joey Graceffa?"

Connor perked up at that, glancing at Troye worriedly, no traces of previous mirth, "Wait, do you know him?" 

Troye could have sworn that he detected a hint of disappointment on Connor's face. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, as everyone at the table, including even Ricky, gave him an awkward look.

"Sorta." Troye answered curtly, not really understanding what the big deal about it was. Everyone knew everybody in college.

Tyler, who was also frowning, asked him, "When did you?.. I mean, how do you know him?" 

Connor seemed positively mortified, his face no more flushed, as he waited for Troye to answer. 

"I don't understand, is something wrong?" Troye was getting increasingly confused. "I mean, we are both assigned to the music department," he looked over at Ricky, who was also one of the music majors, but the boy just stared back at him, "So he hangs out a lot in the studio."

"Oh, so you are just acquaintances?" Zoe piped in, pointedly looking at Connor.

Troye nodded, his eyebrows still knitted, "Is there a problem?" 

"No, not at all," Connor replied abruptly, rising from the table and picking up his paper coffee cup. He looked at Ricky, "The practice is in half an hour, and I wanted to talk to the coach before, remember? We should probably go."

Ricky seemed a bit deflated, as he picked up his books and stuffed them into his duffel bag, "You are talking to him today?"

Connor looked down to the ground, and nodded silently, before turning around and leaving, Ricky in tow.

"Well, awkward," Troye questioned sarcastically, "What's that about?"

Tyler and Zoe exchanged uncomfortable glances. 

"What?" Troye asked almost aggressively, mysteriousness of his friends aggravating him to no end. "Why does everyone keep looking at me today as if I offended their great ancestors?"

"It's nothing," Zoe smiled at him gently.

Troye was beyond the point where his irritation could be dialed down, "Clearly, it's something. His majesty Connor Franta has a fucking problem with me again, and so do you. All of you."

Tyler gave him a cold look, scrunching his nose in distaste, "Oh my god, twink, get a grip."

Both Zoe and Troye couldn't help but laugh a little at that label, which shifted the mood slightly. Zoe changed her seat so she could hug Troye and rest her head in the crook of his shoulder. "For a second here, we all thought that you slept with Joey already."

"I barely know the guy," Troye mumbled offendedly.

Tyler snorted, "That never stopped you before." He looked at Troye sharply, when the latter tried to object, "And no one judges you. God knows, I certainly don't. It's just that Connor looks for something beyond one-night stands."

Troye couldn't believe his ears, as he inquired indignantly, "What are you implying?" Zoe hugged him tighter and gave Tyler a warning look.

"Girl, I ain't trying to throw shade here, stop twisting my words. Apples and oranges. You go for your rock star types, but Con is more, I don't know, tame. And both are fine. So you do you, and hopefully, Connor does Joey. Or Joey does Connor, whichever floats their boat."

Tyler was interrupted by simultaneous 'ew' from both Troye and Zoe.

Troye looked at Zoe, "Do you agree with Tilly?"

She looked at him, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead in a gentle, almost mother-like fashion, "About what?"

"Am I not good enough?"

Zoe looked ponderous for a second, "Of course you are, silly." She looked at Tyler, pursing her lips, "And he knows it too."

Troye wasn't sure whether she was talking about Tyler or someone else entirely.

 

_I told you I don't do nice_

After Troye hit 'send', he immediately regretted his decision to text Connor. It was crazy on so many levels that the word 'wrong' couldn't even start to describe it.

_Okay, I guess?_ was the only reply he got. 

Troye could easily imagine the other boy's confused expression, his pretty eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. 

_Just thought you should know. And Joey is certainly a nice guy_

Connor didn't reply for a long time. When he finally did, Troye smiled, despite his best efforts, upon reading the text. 

_I see what you mean. Thank you_

It seemed like Connor was intent on thanking Troye for literally every text he wrote. You can take a boy out of Minnesota, but you can't take Minnesota out of a boy, as Tyler once said.

From what Troye remembered of Joey, the guy was so incredibly good to the point where Troye's teeth ached from his excessive sweetness. Maybe, they would make a great couple, indeed.

_Soooooooo Connie, when is your date then?_

Troye himself was bemused with his own obnoxious tone, clearly seeing an irritated eye roll from Connor, as the boy typed back a sassy reply.

_I guess the same day you are gonna ask out this checkout boy_

Troye scoffed irritably. 

_You seem to think about him so much that I'm starting to get jealous_

Troye preferred to think that the double-entendre in the message was unintentional. Connor's answer was quick.

_Ohhh, don't be. He only has eyes for you. Btw, he just asked me why you stopped coming to the store_

Troye did a double-take. 

_He just what?_

He would fucking kill Connor Franta, his cute smile be damned.

_I'm at the store atm. Anyways, I gave him your number and told him to ask you himself) you're welcome_

Troye couldn't believe his eyes. He was so done with Connor. Why on earth did he think it was a good idea to play a wingman for Troye? 

As if on cue, his phone received another text. Without even bothering to read it, Troye blocked the contact, sending screenshot of his blacklist back to Connor. 

_How I am gonna shop there now? Poor kid. Troye boy, you have no heart._

He stared at the text, suddenly feeling frustrated. 

_You have no idea, Connie_

Since Connor didn't reply, all Troye could think of was whether his notoriety was becoming more of a burden than a blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n I swear this is not going to be your classic love triangle   
> Next chapter - "Matching"


	7. Matching

Troye groaned with frustration, wiping tiny droplets of sweat from his forehead. "Damn you, Tilly," he heard Tyler's trademark cackle from the hall, and moved to follow him outside, picking up the stuffed box with effort.

Tyler silently patted the spot in the back of the truck for Troye to put the box down, and the other boy complied.

"Hell, this shit is heavy," Troye complained.

Tyler shook his head at him, "I mean, girl, you haven't seen the boxes with clothes. I literally can't even push them."

"Then how are we supposed to carry them?" Troye flailed his hands in exasperation. 

"They are going to help us," Tyler replied, pointing a finger at the approaching car. As the car pulled over in front of the house next to the truck, Troye saw that it was actually packed with people, and there were a few boxes and something resembling a black board in the trunk.

"What are they doing here?" Troye whispered, watching the swim team members exit the car, slamming the doors unceremoniously.

"What's up?" Ricky greeted them, crawling from the driver's seat. "Ready to move?" he sent both Tyler and Troye a friendly smile.

Nonchalant as always, Tyler wiggled his finger at Ricky and JC, "You! There are some boxes in the bedroom upstairs, and neither Troye nor I can lift them. So you will be in charge of them."

JC whined loudly, "Why do we always get the shittiest part?"

Tyler raised his eyebrow in a no-nonsense manner, raising his index finger in emphasis, "Justin, Richard, I expect you not to be little bitches." 

Kian just snorted at them mockingly, wiggling his eyebrows, "Yeah, Justin, Richard, please."

Upon seeing Ricky's exasperation, Connor burst into laughter, as he opened the trunk of Ricky's car, turning to look at Tyler, "So, how should we do this? Take all of your stuff out and then bring my stuff in?"

Tyler nodded, "Yes, otherwise everything's gonna get all mixed up. I don't wanna go to San Francisco with a whole box of your precious coffee beans," he jabbed jokingly.

Connor scoffed in reply, "And I don't wanna get stuck here with a box of your sex toys."

At Tyler's questioning 'Don't you, though?' everyone, except Troye, laughed again.

"What is going on, guys?" he asked, looking at Tyler with wide eyes.

"Connor is moving into my place," Tyler replied simply.

"Oh, but isn't it too small for all of you?" Troye asked all the boys, noticing how Kian crossed his arms, frowning down at Troye.

"No, it's just Connor," Ricky replied curtly, ending the conversation, as he moved to enter the house, everyone following suit, leaving Troye to stand on the sidewalk awkwardly by himself. 

 

Troye, being the least strong, was eventually assigned to wrap the dishes into paper and pack them. The job was tedious, and he felt a little bit envious of all the laughter that he heard from the hall. On the other hand, he was glad he was stuck with less exhausting task than other boys. 

"Hey Troye boy," Connor poked his head into the kitchen, smiling brightly at him, "How are you doing here all alone?"

Troye sent him a small smile, continuing to wrap the plates, "I'm just glad it's not me currently assembling your desk."

"Oh my god, I'm sure Ricky's gonna flip over soon, because Kian secretly threw out a bunch of screws, and now everything there is a total mess, and nothing works," Connor laughed, putting his hand on the back of his hand in frustration.

"So, you are moving out from them?" Troye almost whispered, pretty much stating the obvious.

Connor's face dropped a little, and Troye momentarily hated himself for this, "I guess, it didn't work for me anymore. Swimming and all."

Troye's eyes widened in astonishment, "You quit the team as well?"

Connor nodded, smiling at Troye bashfully, "As one smart guy once told me, you've gotta do what makes you happy. For me it was this," he gestured around the room.

Troye arched his eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood, "Getting your own place so you can bring cute boys over?"

As Troye reached for another plate, Connor replied with a wink, "Well, I've got you here for starters, right?"

Bang. 

They both stared at the shattered plate that used to be whole mere seconds ago. Troye heard Connor giggle, "Oh god, I'm so sorry, I was just kidding. I never thought that you of all people would get flustered that easily." 

"You alright here?" JC looked into the room.

Troye stared at the ground, "Yeah, just my butterfingers. I warned Tyler about not letting me deal with fragile objects."

JC laughed, as Connor left the room, muttering something about getting a broom. Troye heard him shuffle through the closet, crashing over something in process, and open the door, as someone knocked on it.

"Hi, Lilly," Connor greeted, and led the girl into the kitchen to start the swiping.

"What the hell happened, Con? You literally spent an hour at your new place, and there is already mess here," Lilly asked, ignoring JC and Troye for a moment in order to stare at the plate shards, scattered on the floor.

"Uhm, it was my fault, sorry," Troye piped up, shame-faced, "Let me clean it up."

Connor just waved him away, looking up at Lilly, "Yeah, I think Troye boy here might be even more clumsy than me, and that's saying a lot. I mean, the night I met him he literally spilled soda all over himself."

Both JC and Lilly snorted. The girl smiled fondly at Connor, then turned to the boxes, filled with mugs and utensils, "Let me take over then. Troye?" She frowned at him, and he nodded, "You can go and carry whatever with the boys."

"I don't think we can trust Troye with any more of the important stuff," JC raised his eyebrows jokingly.

"Whatever," Troye huffed indignantly, "It's time for me to leave anyway."

Connor's eyes were wide, as he put his hand on Troye's shoulder, the other one still holding the broom precariously, "Don't leave yet, Troye boy. It's Tyler last night here. We are gonna hang out a little bit after we're done with boxes. I mean, Caspar and Zoe promised to be here. And maybe someone else will come too."

"Like Connor's boyfriend," JC sing-sang in the background, as Lilly raised an eyebrow.

Connor turned to glare at him, removing his hand from Troye in order to flip JC off, "He is not my boyfriend. But, seriously, Troye, stay."

"Okay," Troye conceded easily, "I'm gonna go help Tilly."

A shout could be heard from the upstairs, "I'm gonna kill you, Kian! Tyler, help me!" A loud thud and a high-pitched shriek, presumably, from Kian followed immediately after.

"Or I can stay here in the kitchen," Troye continued, flinching.

Connor looked at JC, "They are so gonna break something. Do you think Tyler's got some extra screws here?"

As the two boys were leaving the room, Troye heard JC's reply of 'Maybe, in his head', and a uproar of laughter. Troye shuffled on his feet nervously, afraid to approach the plates.

"This counter is empty already. I think you can put some of Connor's stuff there. That'd be quicker," Lilly suggested, as she wrapped Tyler's rainbow-colored mug. They worked in silence for a few minutes, when she started again, "It's tough that Tyler's leaving. I heard you are pretty close." There was a trace of discomfort in her voice.

"I'm sad, obviously. But we are gonna figure this out. We have Skype, and San Fran is not that far away. Korey is already planning a road trip there, and he wants to bring Zoe, Connor and me with him." 

"Oh, long distance relationships must be really hard. How long you guys have been together?" Lilly's stance wasn't intimidating per se, but it surely wasn't friendly either.

Troye was genuinely shocked at that question, "Me and Tyler?" When Lilly nodded, Troye stuttered, "We are not a couple."

Noticing his bewilderment, Lilly seemed a little ashamed, "Sorry, I just assumed."

Troye waved his hand dismissively, "It's alright, people often think that. Not that I encourage it, but it's a fair guess."

"Okay, it makes more sense then," Lilly answered cryptically.

"What makes more sense?" Troye prompted.

Lilly gave him a look that Troye couldn't quite decipher, "Never mind."

Troye gripped tightly whatever he was holding, barely paying attention to it, "What is it?" 

As they heard multiple footsteps approaching, Lilly just shrugged, turning away from Troye to face the cupboard.

Tyler and Connor entered the kitchen, both engrossed in the takeout menu.

Tyler sat on one of the counters, swinging his feet merrily in the air, "We couldn't be bothered to actually cook anything. We are getting pizza."

"Okay," Troye trailed indifferently, eyes still on Lilly's form.

"So, it is two pepperonis, two margaritas and for you, Tro? Hawaiian?" Connor looked up from the leaflet, counting on his fingers.

Troye muttered 'yes' under his breath, not meeting his gaze.

"Oh my god," Tyler gushed, "I just realized that Connor and Troye match."

Troye stared at Tyler dumbly. As he turned his confused stare to Connor, the boy laughed, raising his eyebrows, "Yeah, we kinda do. Even the shoes." As Connor said it, he looked down at Troye's feet.

Oh.

Tyler was right, Troye noticed, studying Connor's sneakers. He realized that they were wearing the exact same clothes. His gaze trailed upwards, from light-faded ripped jeans to a plaid shirt with a black tee underneath it, stopping at Connor's face.

Connor looked hesitant, "I should probably go change before Joey arrives. I'm gross from all the dust."

Lilly barked out a laugh, as Tyler cooed, "Don't worry, he would like you dirty even more."

Connor just threw the leaflet he was still holding in Tyler's general direction, missing horribly, "Order some food, will you?"

As Troye stared after him, he couldn't get rid of the feeling that whatever Lilly wasn't telling him was something he really-really needed to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next - "Beautiful"


	8. Beautiful

"Is it me or this is kinda disturbing?" Troye heard Joe mutter under his breath, as they stared at Connor, who was sat in the armchair with Joey balancing on its elbow rest.

Troye chuckled, "Yeah, it's like from this movie, what is it called?" he frowned in contemplation, "The one with the weird evil guy who had a midget and called him mini-me."

Joe snapped his fingers, trying to remember the name, but failing, "I see what you mean, but I can't think of the title."

Indeed, Troye found the picture of Connor and Joey together almost unsettling. It seemed like Joey was just a slightly larger version of Connor, his hair styled in the same quiff, smile just as bright and even some of the mannerisms the same. 

They shared their passion for hiking (which made Troye roll his eyes) and animals (which made Tyler roll his eyes), obsession with healthy eating (eye roll from Troye again) and fashion sense (this one nobody seemed to mind). In fact, Troye really enjoyed the sight of Connor in a dark patterned dress shirt for a change, and he could have sworn that he hadn't seen a snapback on him for a few months. He liked both these facts a lot.

What he didn't like was the fact that Connor's knee repeatedly brushed against Joey's thigh, but Connor, instead of moving away, remained in the same sitting position, smiling up at his conversation partner and nodding eagerly to something he was saying.

Troye snapped out of his mental rant, remembering something he wanted to tell Joe for a long time, and turned to face him, "This is kinda random but I'm sorry about your parents."

Joe gave him a perplexed look, which then transformed into a warm smile, "Thanks, I guess. I mean, it has not settled in with me yet. Since Zoe and I are here, we are gonna see them only at Christmas, and for now it seems like everything is the same." 

Troye reached over to give Joe's hand a squeeze, "It's gonna be alright, mate. If you ever need something, you can count on me, you know that?"

"Sure," Joe hid a smile in his glass and fell silent for a moment. "Okay, enough with the sappy stuff, I hate it. Tell me something funny instead."

Troye thought for a second, his eyes wandering around the room, "Do you know that we call baby kangaroos in Australia?" He waited for a reply and, upon receiving none, continued, "Joeys."

Joe snorted, glancing at the chair where the guy in question sat, and shook his head at Connor, who having caught up on their laughter, looked up at them questioningly.

"What are you two laughing on about?" Zoe asked from her place on the couch inquisitively. 

"Just banter," Joe shrugged dismissively, then pointed at an album in Zoe's lap, "What is that?"

"Oh, a scrapbook," she replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and threw it into Joe's hands.

Troye wrinkled his nose, "A scrapbook? Are you eight, Zoe?" 

He felt someone plop into the seat next to him, crushing him a little bit, and, as he turned, he was met with Connor's curious stare, "What's all the fun about?" he asked, eyes never leaving Troye's face.

"Apparently, Zoe has a scrapbook," Troye complained, "How lame is that? It's like she's in kindergarten."

Connor's eyes twinkled a bit at that, "Yeah, I actually made it. For Tyler." He paused for dramatic effect, furrowing his eyebrows, "Are you insinuating that I'm immature?"

Troye's face fell, "Shit, sorry. I didn't mean it that way," he hurried to explain himself.

Connor looked at him coldly for a straight minute, before giving away to laughter, his poker face failing miserably, "I'm just messing with you, Troye boy," he teased, poking Troye's side, "It _is_ kinda lame though, isn't it? Besides, I probably am immature."

"No shit," Troye mumbled, as he tried to avoid tickling. He noticed slightly inebriated Tyler stumble into the living room from the bathroom, eyes roaming, and waved him over, "Tilly, come here!"

Tyler complied, before laying down clumsily across Joe's, Troye's and Connor's lap, "What's up, motherfuckers?" he asked, addressing no one in particular.

Connor frowned at him, putting a hand on his head, as one checking child's temperature would, "Will you be okay in the morning? I mean, you're gonna have a pretty intense drive. And we have yet to move the couch."

Zoe cocked an eyebrow at Tyler incredulously, "You are taking your couch with you?"

Tyler rolled his eyes, "Of course, it is a part of my heritage."

Troye eyed him suspiciously, "You know that heritage is something you are supposed to leave behind, right?"

"Don't get smart with me, Troye," Tyler scolded irritatedly, "Connor doesn't want it anyway."

Connor looked at them all, raising his arms placatingly, but with a little smirk of his own, "I mean, this couch has seen a lot of things I'm not sure I'm comfortable with."

"That's because you are a prude," Tyler countered somewhat menacingly, but the words lacked his usual bite, "Where's this little bitch Marcus? He said he'd come."

Zoe looked down on her phone, "He's seeing Niomi off at the airport."

Tyler scoffed, "Of course he is. Korey has also blown me off."

Joe looked unimpressed, "Well, excuse him for attending his brother's wedding. He promised to come visit you soon though."

Tyler grumbled almost unintelligibly, pointing at Connor, "Your guys also left already," he pouted.

Connor nodded, "They literally spent the whole day here, Ty."

"Where's Joey?" Troye asked.

Connor turned to look at him again, "He's taking a work call."

"Caspar is gonna be here in 5," Joe announced, reading the text from his phone. 

Tyler sighed grumpily, "Finally, someone who actually gives a shit."

Zoe reached over to tap Tyler's foot, "Hey, we all do."

"Do what?" Joe smirked, knowing perfectly well that his sister preferred to avoid swearing as much as she could.

Zoe glared at her brother, "Give a damn."

Catching up on Joe's antics, Connor taunted, "That's not it. We all do what?"

Zoe squealed, covering her ears, "I'm not gonna say it."

Tyler, less moody than before, raised his head from where it was nestled on Connor's knees, "Come on, say it. What do y'all do?"

"Oh my god," Zoe snapped, "We give a shit, Tyler, we actually do. Do you find this so hard to believe? We actually fucking care, because we are all your friends and we love you. And even if you are moving, doesn't mean that we love you less."

Tyler perched himself on his elbows, effectively crushing Troye and Connor, who both scowled at him, "Zoe Sugg, you are my queen," he rolled over from them to sit next to Zoe, all three boys under him sighing in relief.

Joe scowled, as he picked up the previously forgotten scrapbook from his lap, massaging his leg at the place where the corner of the album dug into him.

Troye felt him tap on his shoulder, "Seriously though, dude, look at this," Joe said, flipping through the black album.

As Troye turned his gaze downward, his jaw dropped.

'Scrapbook' was an understatement of the century, he thought. 

This was fucking art. 

The album was filled with pictures, varying from candid shots of all of them at parties to photos of sunset on the Venice beach. He saw a picture of Tyler doing body shots of Caspar's stomach, Zoe and Korey dying from laughter in the background. A picture of lavender Raf set on a wooden table in the coffee shop Tyler frequented. Lilly and Ricky doing some weird gang gestures with their hands. Tyler, wrapped in a fluffy blanket, sitting on the infamous couch, holding an ice pack to his face. Connor's feet next to the heart drawn on the sand. Four boys from the swim team hugging each other and making faces to the camera. Frightened Caspar looking at Joe who was feeding the guinea pigs. Tyler's books about Ricky Martin and Lady Gaga sprawled artistically on the table. Intertwined hands of Marcus and Niomi with Tyler and Joe making fun of them behind them.

There were so many more.

Troye noticed pictures of himself a couple of times. With the other boys, all of them in drag, Zoe smiling proudly, holding up a bunch of makeup brushes. Slouched in an armchair with Ricky in matching Pokémon onesies. Asleep in the back of someone's car, head resting on Tyler's shoulder. Flexing his fingers weirdly, listening intently to something Caspar was saying. 

Him and Tyler both planting sloppy kisses on the cheek of a giggling, blushing Connor.

Troye barely remembered that evening, but he remembered all of them being gloriously drunk and Tyler shouting something, trying to prove his point, which no one cared about.

His eyes were glued to the shot.

"So, do you like it?" he heard Connor ask tentatively.

"It's so cool, mate!" Joe exclaimed.

"What do you think, Troye?"

Troye broke away from the album. 

He wanted to say a lot. This is my life, he wanted to say. This is my life, here, in a freaking leather book. In the lens of your hipster camera. In your annoying Instagram filters. In mundane shots of Tyler's favorite chicken taco. This is my life as your stupid green eyes see it. This is my life, and it is beautiful because you are beautiful and that is the way you choose to see it.

He didn't say any of those things.

"I like it," Troye whipped his head to look at Connor solemnly. 

"You do? Really?" he asked enthusiastically, obviously flattered, smile wide as ever.

"It is beautiful," Troye simply stated.

And then his stomach dropped, as realization hit him.

No.

No.

No, no, fuck no.

Please. 

He couldn't be. 

He didn't allow himself to be.

Except he was.

He was in love with Connor Franta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next - 'Unattainable'


	9. Unattainable

"Just leave me alone, please," Troye pleaded passively.

"Come on, Troye," Connor pouted, "Pick one."

Troye crossed his arms in defense, "Why do I have to?"

They were currently arguing in the middle of a furniture store in attempt to purchase a couch to replace the one Tyler took with him, with Troye acting like a petulant child and Connor scolding him for bad behavior. 

"Because I'm essentially buying it for you and the guys to sleep on," Connor answered, plopping on one of the couches. He winced, "Ew, I don't like this one at all. It's kinda hard," he shifted in his seat a little bit, giving it a try, "Nope, this one is too hard."

Biting back an innuendo, Troye grunted instead, "I mean, let Ricky help you, or Kian, I don't know."

Connor's eyes widened, "I keep forgetting that you've actually never seen my old place. It was a total disaster. No design or color scheme whatsoever. I love them and all but I don't trust these guys with aesthetic matters."

"Did they find a roommate instead of you?"

Connor nodded, "Yeah, some kid named Cameron, I think. He seems... alright," Connor trailed off, lost in his thoughts.

"Do you miss them?" Troye asked, looking at him. 

"A little bit, yes. We still hang out a lot, but it's not the same as sharing a kitchen and living under the same roof. Sometimes I feel like I spend much more time with you and Caspar than with them. Not that it's bad, of course," he added hastily.

"Do you regret it, though?" Troye asked sincerely, curious for an answer.

Connor's eyes were bright when he replied, "No." There was no hesitation in his answer, and Troye liked it, as his lips upturned into a sly smile. Connor squinted at him, "I see what you are doing here, Troye boy, and it is not gonna work."

Troye raised his arms innocently, eyes wide, "I don't understand what you mean, Connie."

"You are distracting me with some deep conversation so you don't have to help me!" Connor pointed an accusing finger at Troye's chest, "No-no-no, you get down to your task. Which couch do you like?" he turned to look at the furniture.

Troye rolled his eyes, "Just buy this one," he pointed at random with his finger at the closest white sofa.

"Are you joking?" Connor was truly indignant, "You're gonna be the first to spill something on it. We need to go like taupe or mauve."

Troye scrunched his nose, moving further along the displays, "I literally have no idea what you are on about. Taupe? What is that?"

"You are such an audile," Connor shook his head and marched forward, following Troye's lead.

"I get it, you have a vast vocabulary, quit saying things I don't understand," Troye complained, stopping in front of a small grey couch, "This one is alright."

Connor cocked his head, studying it thoughtfully, "Actually, it looks pretty nice. Come on, let's take a seat." He jumped on it, dragging Troye to sit next to him, "Oh, it's soft," he put his arm around Troye's shoulders, leaning back on the sofa cushions, one leg bent at the knee. Troye ended up squished in his bear hug, his back half against Connor's chest, half against the couch, feet dangling awkwardly. Troye was afraid that Connor could feel his racing heartbeat with the hand, draped around his chest.

"This is actually pretty nice," Connor spoke after a few minutes, his voice distant.

"Yeah," Troye conceded, "So are we buying it?" he turned to look at Connor.

He didn't expect to see - in hindsight, he should have - Connor's face in close proximity, his eyes kind and dreamy and cheeks flushed. Troye gulped. 

Boy, he got it bad. 

He was hoping that if he pretended his stomach didn't do a somersault every time Connor smiled up at him, it would eventually stop. But from the time it hit him at Tyler's farewell party it got worse. Butterflies in the stomach was not a metaphor anymore, it was Troye's reality now. Lusting after a friend. Craving someone unattainable. Being in love with somebody who was convinced Troye was incapable of loving.

"Stop daydreaming, Connie," he snapped his fingers into Connor's face harshly, breaking away from the hug and standing up, "Are we buying it or not?"

Connor looked down at the spot that Troye occupied seconds ago, "I guess we are."

Troye pumped up his fist into the air, relief flooding him, "So we can leave?"

"Oh but Troye boy, we have yet to buy pillows," Connor laughed, as Troye pulled at his hair in frustration.

 

A couple of hours later, back at Connor's place, which still had a gaping hole of the missing couch that was yet to be delivered, Troye slouched tiredly on a dining chair, dropping the shopping bags unceremoniously on the floor.

"...and Joey's friend Sawyer is gonna be there all the time and he's really cool. I know it sounds lame but I mean, I kinda need it because I've gotta pay for this place and all the new stuff," Connor babbled on cheerfully, relaying all details of his new job to Troye.

So, apparently the ever perfect 'baby kangaroo' Joey helped him find a place as a part time on-set photographer at the film studio where his friend worked. Connor tried to downplay his excitement, but it was evident to Troye that he was beyond himself, bouncing up and down with childlike glint in his eyes. Troye gave him a lop-sided smile.

"Besides, it's something that I can even put up on my CV when I graduate, which is still better than an odd job at some random coffee shop or whatnot," Connor trailed off, casting a worried look at Troye. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Sure," Troye shrugged, stifling a yawn.

"What was the last thing I said?" Connor asked with a faux-sweet smile plastered on his face.

"That you are really looking forward to starting?" Troye ventured indecisively, taking an educated guess.

Connor pouted at him, slightly smacking Troye on the arm, "You are the worst. Want something to drink?" he walked over to stare at the insides of the fridge indecisively.

"Not really," Troye refused, "I'm gonna put up a movie. Where's your laptop?" 

"In the bedroom. I'll make coffee so don't start without me."

Troye scoffed to himself, shaking his head at Connor's unhealthy addiction, as he plopped on the bed, picking up a laptop from the nightstand and starting to load the movie. He yawned again, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Just as he was clicking the 'ok' dialogue button, a pop-up appeared on the screen, indicating an incoming Skype call. 

"Heeeey!"

Troye startled at that, casting a panicked glance all over the room, searching for the source of the voice, before his eyes settled on the screen. Equally embarrassed girl was staring at him, her eyes wide in shock. She looked at the bottom of her own monitor, checking whether she called the correct person, and then back at Troye, who had a hand clamped over his mouth and was shaking his head in disbelief.

"Hello?" the girl gave him an uncertain wave, trying to catch Troye's attention. "Is Connor here?"

"Y-yeah," Troye stuttered a bit, "I'll go get him." His intent was rendered useless, when the boy himself appeared in the doorframe, holding two steaming mugs. 

"Troye boy, who are you talking to?" Connor smiled, holding out a mug to him, but stopping in his tracks upon taking in Troye's horrified expression, "What's wrong?"

"Connor, I'm so-so sorry," Troye indicated to the laptop, "I swear it was an accident."

The confused boy turned to look at the screen, "Nicola?" The girl smiled at him awkwardly.

"I was just loading the movie, and then I clicked something, and here," Troye stammered some more.

"For a second I thought that I called someone else by mistake," a voice from the laptop came.

Putting down the mugs on the nightstand cautiously, Connor sat on the bed, making Troye scoot over, "Well, that must have been awkward." He placed the laptop on his right leg and angled it so both he and Troye were in the frame, "By the way, this is Troye."

Nicola laughed, "I figured as much. I'm Connor's sister." She smiled at him the same way Connor usually smiled - impossibly wide, toothy grin, eyes shining in mirth and small wrinkles in their corners. 

Troye's cheeks were embarrassingly red at this point, "Sorry," he squeaked, as he gestured to the laptop, eloquently describing the whole incident. 

"Forget about it," Connor replied, settling onto the pillows. "How are you?" he turned his attention to his sister, passing Troye the cup absent-mindedly, as he nodded along something she was telling him. 

Accepting the coffee, Troye whispered so only Connor could hear him, "I should probably go."

Connor's hand landed on his knee, pinning him to his place, as he shook his head subtly without even looking at Troye, continuing to listen to Nicola.

"What's new? How is your place?" Troye heard her ask.

Connor beamed at the screen energetically, taking a sip of his coffee, "We bought a couch today!" he relayed proudly, before prompting Troye to show her on the phone the picture of it he had taken earlier. "And some pillows, and a Persian rug. Oh!" Connor almost jumped on his own bed with excitement, "And some scented candles too!"

At that Troye rolled his eyes, trying to be inconspicuous, but Nicola seemed to notice his irritation and laughed.

"What's funny?" Connor pouted at her.

Instead of replying, she pointed her finger, "Troye here seems to be not very fond of scented candles."

"I'm not fond of spending three hours in one store smelling things over and over," Troye smiled into his mug.

"Tell me about it," Nicola gently tease with an eye roll of her own, "Who do you think was his victim before you came along?"

Connor answered indignantly, "I can't believe you two teaming up on me already!" before waving his hand and looking at Troye with a corner of his eye, "You'll appreciate these candles later."

Nicola gave them both a curious look but refrained from commenting, changing the topic, for which Troye was eternally grateful. He kept on sipping his coffee, idly listening to some sibling banter and smiling to himself most of the times.

One Skype talk and a documentary about sugar later, Troye found himself in Connor's car again, this time on the way home, tapping along to the song.

"I always assumed that you had a skateboard!" Troye exclaimed.

The conversation about skateboarding, weirdly, started from the discussion about on what it is better to place the camera to get a proper moving shot, with Connor proposing to use two penny boards, tied together, which was not a bad idea in itself. 

"Why on earth would you think that? I'm almost as uncoordinated as you are," Connor smirked, eyes trained on the road.

Troye was ponderous for a minute, "You seemed like the type."

Connor was clearly unimpressed, "The type? And what's with the past tense?"

Troye sighed, still a little bit touchy on the subject of his previous assumptions about Connor, not wanting to start a row, "I mean, with all your muscle tees, at the time you looked like the person who would know how to skateboard." He ventured a cautious look at Connor, who stared ahead with no expression whatsoever. 

"You and your assumptions," Connor's voice was slightly bitter.

Troye scoffed, "Look who's talking."

Finally tearing his eyes from the road for a second, Connor gave him a skeptical stare, prompting Troye to continue.

"You always thought I'm a slut."

"No offense, Troye," Connor frowned, and Troye immediately knew that nothing good would come out after such disclaimer, "But before I even knew who you were, I couldn't count the times I saw you hooking up with someone at the parties. And the first times we talked to each other you always tried to chat me up with some cheesy lines."

Troye looked out of the window, silently observing as they moved past dimly-lit buildings and occasional pedestrians, "You know, I don't do that anymore," he finally said.

"Do what?"

"Hook up with random people," Troye turned to face Connor, trying to gauge his reaction.

The other boy, for once, was succeeding with his poker face, as he inquired quietly, "Why?"

In all honesty, what answer did Connor expect? Because it doesn't feel right anymore, because they are not you, because I want to finally be good enough?

Instead, Troye just shrugged non-committally, returning his gaze to the window, and saying nothing for the rest of the ride, his mind going in overdrive.

When, a few minutes later, Connor pulled up in front of his house, before saying final goodbyes for the night, Troye asked, "Are we alright?"

Finally facing him, Connor looked at him as if he was insane, "Of course!" and patted him on the shoulder in his usual fashion. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes though, but Troye preferred to ignore it for the time being.

"So do you need help with the couch tomorrow?" he inquired, remembering that the goddamn sofa would be delivered the next day.

Connor was closed off again, his gaze fixed stubbornly on his own hands, clutching the steering wheel tightly, "No, thanks, Joey is coming over. He will help me."

"Of course."

Almost mirroring his position, Troye stared at his own hands for a while, fumbling with the seatbelt.

Fool.

He is not yours for the taking. He has someone. Even if he didn't, he would never look past your previous misbehavior. You are not good enough. And you can pretend all you like and delude yourself into believing things but you are never gonna be his first choice.

"Con?"

"What?" the boy hummed.

"Will you do me a favor?" Troye asked evenly, "Can you drive me by the 24/7? I kinda forgot I needed to buy something."

"Sure," Connor turned the key in ignition.

When they stopped in the parking lot next to the store, Connor turned off the engine, taking off his seatbelt. 

"What are you doing?" Troye asked.

Connor gave him a weird look, "Going to the store with you, obviously."

Troye waved at him, mildly scared, "No, you go away," he shooed him for good measure, "I'll walk back home."

The other boy frowned, "Are you sure? Because it's no big deal."

Troye sighed, smiling at him with his teeth, which he knew was Connor's favorite smile. Troye silently hoped that it would throw him off enough to fail to notice that it was completely fake, "Sure. Now off you go, I'll text you next week!"

With that, he jumped out of the car, waving Connor goodbye. Troye waited until he drove away far enough and entered the shop, marching straight to the checkout point boldly.

He was greeted with a familiar face. "You never replied to my text," the boy behind the counter smiled at him tauntingly, putting his hand on his own chest dramatically, "I'm heartbroken."

"What a fucking coincidence," Troye muttered under his breath, before adding loudly, "Sorry about that. How about I redeem myself when your shift is over?" He smiled him the same fake smile from before.

The boy gave him an unimpressed look, and chuckled, "You are lucky you are cute. I can get a break in half an hour. You can hang out outside until then," he replied with a wink. 

Troye hated that wink. It seemed wrong compared to a charmingly awkward and good-natured wink of another person Troye knew.

Swallowing audibly, he nodded and smiled once again, "Deal."

He had a bad feeling about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next - Different


	10. Different

Everything was wrong for a couple of weeks after the 'skateboard incident', as Troye referred to it in his head. 

It almost resembled the way things were the first months after he and Connor met - strained small talk, false smiles and concerned glances from their friends.

Except this time Tyler was not there to alleviate the pressure, so Caspar just sided naturally with Connor, and Troye attached himself to Zoe permanently, pretending that everything was alright.

It was painful and awkward, until one day Connor saw Troye struggle with his books, which were about to burst his backpack open in the middle of the library, and offered to help, and everything just snapped back in its place, and they remembered how it was supposed to be, them being best friends.

Something was still a bit off, but Troye couldn't quite pin it though, and he was silently grateful for the way things seemed to work fine at the moment.

So when Korey announced it was time to visit Tyler, the only emotion Troye experienced was excitement for the road trip and for meeting his friend again.

Cuddled up on the backseat with Connor, he traded him some of his chocolate snacks for an inflatable travel pillow, which they ended up sharing, much to Korey's and Zoe's amusement, while snorting at the Connor's group chat with his ex-teammates. The drive was pleasant and fun for everyone, except, probably, Korey, who was designated as a driver and couldn't afford a deep slumber in his seat, so complained loudly and made Connor promise to drive on their way back. 

Tyler was greeting them on the front porch of his old family house, still clad in his pajamas, waving energetically, as all four of them rushed from the car to give him a tight hug.

They never stopped talking for a second, while Tyler showed them around the house, where he lived alone at the moment, his mom still in recovery in the hospital and his step-family at their own place.

Spending the afternoon sightseeing was simultaneously exhausting and stimulating, the amount of new things to explore weighing Troye down slightly and making him sleepy-eyed. Tyler, however, was having none of it, insisting that they go out because he wanted to brag to them about his new friends and show off his old friends to the new ones. They were so tired that it was simpler for them to go along with everything Tyler proposed rather than actually come up with some sensible reasons to refuse. 

Tyler's 'San Francisco crew', as they labelled themselves, was different, but in a good way. The majority of them being older than Troye, they were graduates and had full-time jobs, however, none of them took themselves too seriously and that is why Tyler fit right in. Troye genuinely liked them, and judging by the looks Connor and Zoe gave them, he was clearly not alone.

"My precious little twink bottom number one, please meet my precious little twink bottom número dos," Tyler slurred, a little bit tipsy, grabbing Troye's attention and motioning to another friend of his.

As everyone at the table laughed at Troye's expression of repressed panic and mild hatred, the boy he was being introduced to just shrugged it off, shaking Troye's hand, "I'm Ben, by the way," before turning to mock-glare at Tyler, "Since when I'm your número dos?"

Troye, recovering, imitated Ben's posture, asking, "Since when I'm your bottom?"

Tyler's face was red and dewy from all the incessant laughing, as he hugged them both happily.

Troye returned to his seat, looking questioningly at Connor, who in his turn was glaring exasperatedly at his phone screen, "What's wrong, Connie?"

Connor shoved his phone into Troye's face, where on the screen there was a picture of someone's behind. Troye stifled a giggle, "What is this?"

The other boy rolled his eyes, "Kian's butt, apparently. I've seen JC's and Rebecca's already today. They are spamming me all day in the group chat with butt pics. I swear I'm gonna mute them," Connor complained, his eyes still mirthful though.

One of Tyler's 'new' friends, Grace, interfered, "You know what you should do?" she looked at Connor, holding up her shot glass, "You should reply them with a picture of your own butt," she emptied the shot so proudly, as if she had just come up with the greatest idea in the world.

Connor's cheeks reddened, as he shook his head shyly. 

Glancing at him, Grace frowned, jabbing lightly a girl named Hannah that was sitting next to her, "Does Tyler even befriend average-looking people? I feel like I'm the least attractive person at the table right now."

Hannah just nodded, raising her eyebrows slightly, her eyes still trained on Ben who was telling something animatedly.

"Or you know what you could do?!" Grace switched back eagerly, not even bothered in the slightest that both Troye and Connor heard her remark to Hannah, "You can take picture of your hand as if it was your butt, as kids do."

Connor seemed even more confused than before, "What?"

Troye perked up, "You never did that?" Not waiting for a response, he grabbed Connor's phone, and, raising up his two fingers, took an extremely closed-up picture, showing it proudly to Grace.

"We've got a professional here," she laughed, "That's what I'm talking about."

Connor buried his face in his hands, trying to control his giggles, "I swear you are, like, seven."

Still fumbling with Connor's phone, Troye typed in a passcode swiftly and opened the editing app, "I can't believe you never did that," he pointed to Connor, turning to Grace, "And he calls himself a photography major!" Finally giving up, he threw the phone back to Connor, "Add some of your hipstery filters, or they won't believe it's you."

Connor rolled his eyes, exiting the app and locking the screen again, flipping the phone so it faced downwards, but, Troye noticed, he didn't delete the picture altogether.

"Anyways," Grace started, "I need to pick up Goose from Chester, so I'd better call an uber."

Noticing Connor's and Troye's confusion, Hannah clarified, "It's her dog."

Troye continued to eye Grace incredulously, "You have a goose and a dog?"

Hannah and Grace were about to fall under the table from laughter, inevitably attracting attention of Tyler, Ben, Zoe, and Korey, who all turned to look at them with great curiosity. Grace, still out of breath and red in the face, tried to explain, "Troye thinks that Chester is my dog, and Goose is... Well, my goose." It didn't make much sense anyway, which caused another fit of laughter, with Tyler and Ben joining.

Finally regaining some semblance of normalcy, Grace gathered her wits together, and made it clear that Goose was a pet name for her dog, and Chester was an actual human name for her boyfriend, which resulted in some more giggles.

Since Grace was about to leave, Hannah decided to tag along and share a cab with her, ultimately taking Ben with them, so eventually, it being a workday, everyone decided to head home.

Back at Tyler's place, where everything was exactly as they left it a few hours ago, i.e. total and complete mess, they were in the process of distributing limited number of sleeping space between all of them.

Zoe, being the only girl, was given the privilege of the currently empty room of Tyler's brother and a separate bathroom, leaving Korey settled in Tyler's room and Connor with Troye in the parents' bedroom.

"No funny business, you two," Tyler jokingly warned them, before twinkle-toeing back into his room in not-so-straight line, causing Connor to look at him dubiously.

With a pleasant buzz from the alcohol he had consumed still present, Troye felt like he had basically no energy left, but he couldn't fall asleep just yet. So instead, while Connor diligently unpacked his bag, putting the clothes neatly in the wardrobe, he fell backwards on the bed, his limbs wiggling, making an angel shape on the sheets.

"Troye boy, get changed before bed, you've been in these clothes all day," Connor poked his shoulder.

Troye scrunched up his nose, refusing to open his eyes, "Too tired."

"At least, take off your jeans then, they are nasty," Connor giggled in response.

Troye opened one eye, peering at Connor curiously, the combination of beer and Tyler's company reverting him to his old self, "Well, someone's eager to get me out of my pants." Taking in Connor's long face, however, Troye sat up immediately. 

So that's what was different about them.

Troye reached out to him, his hand encircling the other boy's wrist gently, only to have him flinch away, "Connor?"

"Just go to sleep, Troye," his voice wasn't cold, but it still differed a lot from his usual warm tone. Connor picked up his toothbrush and left the room without any words, leaving Troye sitting alone on the bed.

Taking off his pants and sweatshirt furiously, he crawled under the covers, after dimming the lights, so only nightlight was on, and turned his back to the door.

He was such a mess.

He would have liked to pretend that the time he spent with the goddamn checkout boy was unpleasant and forgettable, but in reality it was the opposite of that. The boy certainly knew what he was doing, and Troye's pent-up frustration made him desperate for the touch, even though it didn't come from the right person. They ended up fucking in the alley behind the shop and once more at Troye's place, after which the boy returned back to his job, completely unfazed by lack of Troye's reaction, when they were done. 

That night Troye had his first nervous breakdown for a very long time, lying curled up in the cold sheets that reeked of unfamiliar scent. He knew that he didn't even have the right to call himself a cheater, but it still felt as if he betrayed someone's trust. He woke up the morning after, feeling completely numb, deciding to just pretend that last night didn't happen.

He couldn't pretend anymore.

Immersed into his thoughts, Troye didn't even notice that he was no more alone in his room. Only when he felt Connor's firm hand on his shoulder, did he realize that he was shaking.

"Troye, are you okay? What's wrong?" Connor whispered, as he climbed onto the bed beside him, cradling him delicately. Too overwhelmed to speak, Troye shook his head, shivering some more under Connor's comforting touch. He tried to dig his face into the pillow to muffle the dry sobs that prevented him from breathing normally.

Connor gently turned him over, casting him a worried look, before putting his arms around him so that Troye ended up lying on his chest. That's when the tears came.

"Come on, don't cry, baby, don't cry," Connor rubbed soothing circles into Troye's back, his voice quiet.

Troye shook his head, tears soaking the thin material of Connor's t-shirt, "I'm sorry." The sobbing fit intensified when he managed to grunt the first words, the string of apologies coming immediately after, "I'm sorry, Connor, I'm sorry, I fucked up so bad, I didn't want to, I swear, I didn't want any of this. And I know you don't need it from me, and I tried so hard, but I can't help it." More tears didn't allow him to continue. 

Troye didn't say anything else, his sobs eventually dying out, as Connor peppered small kisses on his forehead, his hand going through Troye's hair.

"What am I going to do with you, Troye?" Connor's voice was sad and thoughtful, as he asked this question.

But Troye honestly did not know the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I really like this chapter  
> Next - 'Coward'


	11. Coward

"You look like shit," were the first words that Troye heard the next morning. With a frustrated groan, he opened his eyes that felt like swollen slits due to his previous crying and was met by Tyler's unimpressed glare.

"Fuck off, Ty," Troye leaned back on the pillow, ducking his head under the covers.

His friend, however, was having none of it, "Do you know what time it is?"

"I don't give a fuck o'clock," he mumbled grumpily. 

"Rude!" Tyler simply pulled the covers from him, exposing his half-clothed form to the sunlight streaming from the window and cold air in the room.

Troye whined loudly, kicking the mattress with his feet, before finally sitting up, giving up the idea to smoke Tyler out of the room.

"Seriously, we've been up for a couple of hours, but we were waiting for you, and Connor refused to let us wake you up earlier," Tyler complained, while folding the comforter and taking a seat on the bed. As he took in Troye's face, he gasped, "Have you been crying?"

Troye pursed his lips, shaking his head, "It's not important."

Tyler raised his eyebrows, "No offense, but you look like you've slept with your head in the beehive."

"I'm dealing with it," not meeting his friend's stare, Troye sputtered more for his own benefit rather than Tyler's, "I can't undo the mess I've made, so I might as well make the best of the not good situation."

Tyler gave him a curious look, drawling somewhat jokingly, "You've changed." He then proceeded to pat his leg, "Seriously, though, how are you? I worry about you a lot."

Covering himself with Connor's blanket, Troye rolled over, so he could lay his head on Tyler's lap, looking up at him earnestly, "It's me who should worry about you. I mean, how is your mom? How is your family? But, more importantly, how are you?"

For a second Tyler looked at him with surprised eyes, but the moment passed rapidly, before he tugged at the corner of the blanket forcefully, so that Troye, whose limbs were tangled in it, rolled out of them and effectively fell on the floor.

"Damn it!"

Tyler laughed loudly at Troye's lost and angry expression, "Well, I feel much better now." As he was leaving the room, he turned to look at Troye seriously from the doorframe, "You have grown up a lot, Troye Sivan."

Troye rubbed his bruised butt, his lower lip in a pout, as he thought about simpler times, when his friend was always there to laugh with him or, more often, at him and support him, whatever stupid shit he did. He sighed heavily, as he started picking clothes for the day.

When he finally arrived to the kitchen, fresh out of shower and dressed properly, he was greeted with busy noises of numerous people in the house. Connor was struggling with a coffeemaker, huffing in frustration, as it refused to accept the ground beans, Hannah and a girl Troye didn't recognize were occupied with making waffles, while Tyler, Korey and Zoe were sat in a row on the barstools in the kitchen, sipping on the orange juice without a care in the world, gossiping about someone.

"You're up," Connor looked at him sharply, almost assessingly, before his face split into a happy smile, as he put away a coffee grinder, "We are going to see the bridge and the zoo today," he pointed at the girls standing by the stove, "Hannah and Ingrid are going with us too."

Having heard their names, the girls looked up simultaneously. While Hannah went to hug Troye as if he were her long-lost brother even though he met her only last night, the other girl - Ingrid - just smiled at him prettily, shaking his hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry I couldn't make it yesterday, but Hannah told me that you two are the cutest," Ingrid indicated to Connor, while looking at Troye and shoving a plate with waffles into his hand.

"What about me? Am I not cute?" Korey piped up from his place, purposefully stuffing a whole waffle into his mouth and swallowing without even chewing. Tyler pretended to vomit at that.

A loud noise erupted from the coffee machine, making everyone shudder from surprise, as Connor did a small victory dance, "Woohoo!" He settled contently in front of Zoe, stealing a waffle from Troye's plate playfully.

Troye was especially grateful for that. Not for the missing piece of food, of course, but for the fact that Connor, having seen Troye at his lowest last night, didn't walk on eggshells around him, rubbing in once again how fucked up Troye was, but instead acted like everything was normal. Because it was as normal as it could get for them. 

"I've looked up this cute fish restaurant, we should totally check it out," Zoe chirped, as Troye made a face at her.

"I'm allergic," he argued.

"I've seen you eat salmon before," Connor looked up from his plate, dubious expression on his face.

Tyler supplied, "You are allergic to sea food, you can eat fish. Don't you?"

"If you die, then you are allergic to fish as well. We'll take our chances," Korey snorted.

Troye rolled his eyes, "You guys are the worst. I feel so unappreciated here."

They were done with the breakfast soon, cleaning up the kitchen, not wanting to return to the messy house again, like the previous day. Before they could leave for the day, everyone had to wait additional 15 minutes while Zoe put her makeup on and Connor searched for something proper to wear, since Troye managed to steal the only jacket he brought with him.

 

The rest of the trip was uneventful in the best sense of the word, meaning that everything went exactly as it was expected to be. Hurried, messy breakfast, usually prepared with Hannah's help, was followed by watching the city and a lunch in some cute little cafes Ingrid and Connor insisted on visiting. The evenings were all about chill movie nights with Ben who was still underage, hence not big on drinking, or, vice versa, nights out in the bars with a little bit of dancing and horsing around, with Grace and yet another Tyler's friend, Mamrie, showing up. Either way, in the end all of them always found themselves curled up on Tyler's couch together, drinking beer and white wine, the latter primarily in order to avoid staining the carpet.

When it was time to go back home, Troye felt as if he was leaving not only one, but several friends in San Francisco, but Tyler refused to let him feel sad, promising to visit soon and bring some of the 'crew' along.

All in all, it was a good trip.

Troye was grateful for the fragile balance he and Connor managed to finally find, not skirting around each other anymore, but still within the boundaries of friendship, although Troye noticed how Connor's eyes were sometimes pensive as he stared out of the window for too long and how he talked to Tyler a lot in hushed whispers. He didn't give it much thought because being observant and sometimes shy always was a part of Connor's nature, as well as his complete trust for Tyler. 

That was why, already back home, when Connor invited him over to hang out with his friends, Troye accepted without giving it a second thought. He was surprised to see at his place an unlikely duo of Ricky and Caspar, chilling in the living room, and find out that Connor himself, along with Kian, was out, buying some last-minute beer. Since Troye had no problem with either of boys, he just went along with it, waiting for the others to return from the store. Shortly after, Connor and Kian were back, carrying six-packs and snacks.

Something was different, however, Caspar and Ricky not oblivious to the shift in the atmosphere either.

"What's up?" Troye tentatively ventured, only to be rewarded with a shrug from Connor, as he silently marched over to the kitchen to put beer in the freezer. 

"How was San Fran, Troye?" Kian asked, as he took a seat on the couch, opening a bag of chips and grabbing a handful, crumbles falling all over the place. Before Troye could reply, though, he continued, "By the way, the cashier from the grocery store asked us to tell you 'hi'." 

Troye's face fell, as he looked at Kian with wide eyes, searching for a sign that the boy was messing with his head somehow, but found only a polite (as much as the term could be applied to Kian) indifference.

"I'll be right back," Troye jumped on his feet, as he walked in the direction of the kitchen, brushing off a worried look from Caspar.

He heard Kian ask quietly, "What's up with these two?" but didn't bother to wait for anyone's response, since he had a pretty good guess himself.

He found Connor pouring chips in the bowl, taking him by surprise and making him spill them all over the counter. 

Troye laughed at this, "Here, let me help," as he reached to fix the mess.

"I've got it," Connor said evenly, eyes still fixed on the bowl.

"Come on, don't be such a baby," Troye reached to the bowl once again.

Connor's reply was clipped and bitter, "I said I've got it, Troye!" He raised his voice a little, still refusing Troye the eye contact.

Troye gave up on the bowl, as he maneuvered himself around the counter to stand directly in front of Connor, "Why are you mad?" he asked in a lifeless voice.

Connor took a step back, finally meeting his gaze evenly, "I'm not mad, Troye, please go back to the living room."

Troye stood his ground, not moving an inch, "No."

"I can't deal with you right now," Connor tried to move past him, only for Troye to step sideways and prevent him from doing so.

"Tell me," Troye pleaded.

The look Connor gave him was a mix of different emotions, desperation being the dominant one, "I've got nothing to tell you."

Troye's patience running thin, he walked Connor forcefully into the nearest wall, making the other boy almost trip over, and pinned him in place by the shoulders. His words weren't aggressive though, "Connor, please. It is about this boy, isn't it?"

Connor's eyes were glistening, but he didn't shed a tear, "I have no right to tell you anything about him."

"But you can. I want you to." Troye's voice was surprisingly soft, despite the frustration that was increasing with every second.

Connor was silent.

"Tell me," Troye was almost begging.

Quiet.

At this he snapped.

"You are such a coward, Connor," Troye hissed, letting go of his shoulders abruptly. "I'm so tired of this, because, you know what, I'm a fucking coward too. Yes, I fucked him. And you have every goddamn right to get mad. In fact, I want you to get mad. I want you to throw things at me because you are jealous. And I don't give a fuck that you have a boyfriend, I don't care that you are in a fucking denial right now, because here I am, not being a coward for once," Troye paused, taking in Connor's panicked expression, before taking a steady breath, "I'm in love with you."

Connor looked like he was about to cry, his hands buried in his hair in frustration, with his back slumped against the wall.

"You can't delude yourself anymore," Troye continued, his voice louder, still running on the adrenaline high, "We can't be just friends," Troye put air quotes as he spat out the words, as if they were offensive to him, "I never was your friend, and I will never be."

"What the fuck?" It was not Connor who said that, as the voice came from the door. Turning around, Troye was greeted with a sight of an extremely frustrated Kian. Judging by the way his hands were folded on his chest in a threatening stance, Kian heard the last thing Troye had said and interpreted it completely the opposite way. "What are you doing?" He looked directly at Troye, still giving Connor worried glances, as he took in their positioning - Connor with his back to the wall and Troye towering over him. "Fuck it," he decided, as he approached them, laying a firm hand on Troye's shoulder, "Get out."

Troye tried to shake him off, but his efforts were futile. In his struggle to break free, he failed to notice how the chip-filled bowl fell off the counter with a loud crash.

Kian's grip turned out to be much stronger when expected, as he still didn't falter, "Get the fuck out."

That was the picture Caspar and Ricky found when they walked in.

"What is going on?" Caspar asked confusedly, as Ricky scooted over to unlatch Kian from Troye.

"He needs to get out," Kian repeated stubbornly, but complied with Ricky's demands still.

"Connor?" momentarily forgetting about the chaos around, Troye turned to look at the boy pleadingly, hoping that he would say something. Connor, however, remained frozen in his place, eyeing Troye with something resembling fear in his eyes.

Assessing the situation and also jumping to probably wrong conclusions, Ricky stared at Troye, "No offense, but I think it would probably be better if you leave."

"You can't throw me out!" Troye countered petulantly, glancing at still fuming Kian.

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, flinching at the thought of physical violence, but it was Caspar, as he looked at Troye seriously and spoke, "Come on, Troye, you are making it worse. Let's go for now."

No one said a word.

Connor just stared, as Troye left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next - "Away"


	12. Away

Connor didn't speak to him for seven days.

The first day Caspar lounged on Troye's bed against his will, not saying much and just being there. When the evening came and Troye still didn't say a single word, Caspar ordered pizza, remembering to get a pineapple topping, which made Troye smile a little. Still quiet, he set up Mario Kart multiplayer for two.

The only game at which Caspar didn't suck, however, was FIFA, therefore Troye got bored with beating him really quickly. He just laid back on the floor in his room, watching the ceiling instead of his friend.

"Tell me about your girlfriend," Troye asked, his voice hoarse from not using it for too long.

Caspar paused the race, leaning back too so he was lying next to Troye, "About Gaby? We broke up long time ago."

Troye didn't prompt him for more, and they fell into a long silence.

"I think I might have loved her," Caspar said unexpectedly after a few minutes, his voice thoughtful, "I really might. She is good and smart. She said that it was too much for her to handle and she needed to focus on her own life." When Caspar didn't add anything, Troye thought that he was done, but more words spilled from his mouth, "I didn't believe her at first, but I know she would never lie to me like that." Troye never heard this much sadness and longing in someone's words. "I hope it works out for her."

Caspar sat up to reach for a slice of pizza next to him and unpaused the game.

Troye couldn't help but think that Caspar and he both knew how it felt to offer someone the best of yourself and realize that sometimes your best is just not enough for them.

But Troye also knew how it felt to bare everything, expose even your worst, darkest parts, only to find out that it wasn't enough either.

He reached for controller and started driving a small pixelated car around.

 

The second day Tyler facetimed him in the morning.

Troye could immediately tell that his friend knew what happened. He sighed, "You know."

Tyler gave him a sad, sorry smile, "He didn't tell me a lot, but I can figure out the rest. Wasn't a complete shock. You weren't exactly discreet."

Troye chuckled bitterly, "That obvious, huh?" He watched as the image of Tyler contorted and span, as he laid down on the pillows.

"Yeah, from the day one," Tyler replied, settling in more comfortably for a conversation, "He wasn't much better either. When you visited, everyone literally puked rainbows at what a cute couple you make."

Troye couldn't contain his angry laughter.

Tyler perked up, "What's so funny?"

"He has a boyfriend."

Tyler looked at him weirdly, "He didn't tell you?"

Troye frowned at the screen, "Didn't tell me what?"

Tyler was looking at him with fearful eyes and shaking his head disapprovingly, "You both are a fucking mess. He broke up with him. A long time ago. Even before San Francisco."

Troye stared blankly at the phone, "He never told me." Tyler gave him a 'duh' look, pursing his lips. Surprisingly, he looked genuinely mad. "Ty, why do you look so pissed?"

"He should have told you. This wouldn't be such a disaster if he had just fucking told you."

For once, Troye thought that he couldn't entirely blame himself, although that didn't make him feel better a single bit.

 

The third day was uneventful. Troye spent it indoors, locked up in his room, not talking to anybody. He played around with his musical keyboard, experimenting with different sounds here and there, but nothing particularly good came up. He still managed to add some final touches to a few songs he had already. Other than that, nothing happened.

Troye pretended he didn't think about the boy this whole day.

 

The fourth day he ran into Ricky, JC, and Kian in the hall, as he scrambled to make it on time to his class. All three boys gave him weird looks, but they weren't necessarily angry.

Ricky, shooting a couple of pointed glances at Kian, finally acknowledged Troye, "Hey, dude."

Nodding his head curtly in their general direction, Troye turned to leave, only to be stopped by Ricky's voice, "You know, about that... Sorry, it was a misunderstanding on our part." Ricky pushed into Kian's side with his elbow.

The other boy spoke up, "Yeah, sorry, man." Kian looked mildly aggravated, but his apology seemed sincere enough.

Troye stared at the boys in front of him numbly.

"I hope you sort out everything with Con when he's back," Ricky spoke, clearly uncomfortable.

"Back?" Troye repeated dumbly.

JC looked at him as one looks at a madman, "He's in Minnesota."

Kian's eyes were shooting daggers at his friend, as if he said too much, so JC shut up and Kian led them away, with Ricky casting him a final apologetic glance and the other two boys ignoring him completely.

Troye couldn't decide whether he hated them for how mean they were to him or loved them for how good they were to Connor.

 

The fifth day Troye went over to Connor's place, knowing perfectly that he was out of town and hoping silently not to run into someone in order not to come off as a complete stalker.

He brought Connor's jacket he still had in his bag since they returned from San Francisco and hung it on the knob of the front door. Troye secretly wished that Connor would be back soon, otherwise the jacket faced the risk of being stolen by a hobo or whatnot.

That was definitely the only reason.

 

The sixth day Zoe knocked on his door, holding up two bottles of wine and ice-cream.

"I literally love you right now," Troye said, as he went for a hug.

Returning the embrace, Zoe brushed past Troye inside, quirking an eyebrow, "I hear I'm not the only one to whom you've confessed this week." Maneuvering around Troye's small kitchen, she easily found spoons and glasses and laid them on the table, "Tell me everything."

Troye sat sullenly next to her, after he positioned a corkscrew next to the wine bottles, "I think Tyler told you everything."

"I know the story," Zoe countered, as if it was obvious, "Tell me how you feel about it."

Struggling a little with the bottle, Troye answered simply, "I don't know, to be honest." When the bottle opened with a light pop, he poured the wine in two glasses, passing one to Zoe, "Technically, I did nothing wrong, but it still feels like I fucked up. And now he is gone, and he won't talk to me."

Digging her spoon into the ice cream, Zoe looked at him with sympathy, "Give him some time. He's probably overwhelmed, he needs time to come around." She took a sip of wine, suddenly cringing, "Ice cream and dry wine is a really bad decision."

Troye snorted, "Yeah, but that never stopped me before, right?" He took an enormous bite of the ice cream, flinching at a slight toothache it caused. "I called him a coward. Then I told him that I fucked somebody else and that I'm in love with him literally in the same sentence." Zoe stopped mid-bite, her spoon dangling from her mouth, which in other situation Troye would have found comical, "And then Kian threw me out."

Zoe was genuinely surprised, having heard this, "Oh Troye," she leaned over to hug him tightly.

"I tried to fight it, I really did," Troye whispered, resting his head atop hers.

He felt Zoe sigh, as she answered sadly, "You should never apologize for falling in love, Troye. Promise me that. There is nothing wrong with it."

So Troye promised.

And then the seventh day came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Next chapter is called 'Close' and is going to be last.  
> 2\. I've added a tiny tweak to the first chapter (it doesn't affect the plot in any way).


	13. Close

Connor's text caught Troye off guard.

_May I come over?_

Not a 'hello', not a 'sorry', just a blunt question, straight to the point. Troye's answer was just as curt and efficient.

_Ok_

A few seconds later, he heard a tentative knock on the door. Scrambling out of the bed in a hurry and throwing on hastily the closest pair of pants, he rushed to answer the door, only to be greeted with a sight of Connor.

"Oh, you are here already, I thought you meant..." Troye trailed off, not sure of what to say.

Connor rubbed his neck uncomfortably, as he answered, "Yeah, I kinda drove to your place, and then it occurred to me that you may be out, or not alone." He averted his gaze, saying that, which made Troye shudder.

"I'm alone," he stepped aside to let the boy in. He led him to the small kitchen area and, as he poured water into the kettle, asked, "So, how was home?"

"Fine, I guess. Mom got another cat," there was a ghost of smile on Connor's face, "He's quite a character but when you get to know him, he's a little sweetheart."

Troye pretended to search for coffee, rummaging through the cupboard, in order to avoid facing the boy, "Cool. You know what? Alfie is having a party next week, and, of course, he invited Zoe, because they've been flirting like crazy lately, and Caspar and I are also gonna come, and you should go as well. He has the most insane parties always. Last year before the spring break," Troye rambled on, grabbing a coffee pack, "he got everyone to jump into the pool from the roof of his house. It sounds like not a big deal, but..."

"Troye."

"...he has a goddamn 3-storey mansion, and the roof is steep as hell, and Caspar is already pretty clumsy as it is but Marcus kinda..." Troye himself wasn't really sure what he was talking about and where he was going with the story, but he felt the need to fill the silence with useless noises.

He pushed the button, switching on the kettle, before he turned to face Connor and inhaling deeply in order to continue the story no one in the room was paying attention to.

Connor was leaning back on one of the counters, as he studied Troye with a mixture of bewilderment and sadness, "I didn't come here to you straight from the airport to talk about Alfie's party."

"You certainly have no problem not talking to me at all, so why does it matter anyway?" Troye spat bitterly, as he picked up the coffee again, causing the other boy to purse his lips.

Connor closed his eyes in frustration, breathing audibly, before he opened them and looked at Troye, all traces of rising anger gone completely. "I'm sorry."

Troye stared at him silently, fingers still wrapped tightly around the coffee beans, the faint sound of heating water in the background.

"I'm sorry," Connor repeated, fumbling with his hands nervously, going to bite a nail but deciding against it, as he kept on. "First of all, I'm sorry for being the way I was when we met. The fact that you are..." he struggled for a proper choice of wording, "...affectionate doesn't mean that you are an inferior person. You are a good friend to Tyler and Zoe. You are _my_ best friend."

Troye raised his eyebrows in surprise, "Con," but he was stopped by a gesture from the other boy.

"I also want to apologize for not speaking up when Kian tried to kick you out. You did nothing to deserve that treatment. I already got an earful from Caspar for that. And I explained everything to the guys."

Troye nodded, "They talked to me last week. We are cool."

Connor seemed to be caught off guard by that but still answered solemnly, "Good. What else," he muttered to himself.

Troye hid a small involuntary smile, knowing all too well that Connor, being his usual self, probably had prepared a list of talking points and now was mentally going through them.

"Okay," Connor started, clearing his throat nervously, "one last thing. I am sorry for not being honest with you. You were right then. I _am_ a coward. I always have been. And you confused me, Troye, a lot. The way you act, the way you talk, you just don't care what people think of you. If it weren't for you, I would still be too scared to even quit the team. And then Joey came along..." Connor suddenly fell silent for a second, looking at Troye with a pained expression, the strain in his voice almost accusatory, "You were so enthusiastic about him."

Troye responded with a bitter smile, his mind briefly registering the boiling water that was about to overflow the kettle. "What was I supposed to do? He was like a freaking prince or something, swiping you off your feet."

Breaking the stare, Connor looked down on his hands dejectedly, "He wasn't even that surprised when I told him that it didn't work." He sent Troye a sardonic smirk of his own, "He told me that I clearly was still hung up on my ex-boyfriend. At first, I didn't get it but then he said that my ex kept glaring at him every time he went to the recording studio."

Troye had a decency to look shame-faced, "It wasn't that bad, I promise."

Connor shook his head dismissively, "For me it was. I mean, Lilly noticed before but Tyler knew the second he looked at me, it's uncanny actually. I should have told you in San Francisco. Funny how I was so considerate of other people's feelings and always ended up hurting you," the expression on his face showed that Connor found it anything but funny. "I should have told you when you were crying on my shoulder and fucking apologizing. You apologized for loving me, Troye! And I should have told everything right then, but I was scared. Again. I could have told you many times."

The water splashed against the sides of the kettle, as clouds of hot white steam rose from it.

"Your checkout boy said that I was such a good wingman," Connor said, his tone lifeless and dull, "You told me that you wanted me to get mad. I almost crashed the car when I was driving back. Kian thought I had gone fucking insane. But what could I say to you, Troye? 'I am pissed because my friend slept with someone who wasn't me?' I don't give a damn who Ricky or JC mess around with. Friends don't work that way."

"Anything, Connor, I would have taken anything," Troye's hands were limp against his body. He tried to move them but felt only a twitch in his right palm, as he stared helplessly.

"I should have told you," Connor repeated like a broken record. He stumbled through the next words, "I still owe you this one thing, though. I am in love with you, Troye. I don't know whether you despise me or just don't care about me anymore. I think you deserve to know because you are the bravest person I know and you've shown me how to be brave. And for that I thank you."

When Connor was done, Troye was a mess of conflicting emotions and contradicting words. Relief, concern, confusion, anger, gratefulness - he felt it all. The one he decided to act upon though was different.

Hope.

"I can't hate you. I tried, trust me, I did my fucking best to hate you," Troye gave a small huff of nervous laughter. "We are both so messed up," he spoke softly, prompting a small, sad chuckle from Connor. Walking up to stand in front of him, Troye put his hands on the boy's shoulders, "Please don't give up on me. _On us_." Taking in Connor's wide, confused eyes, Troye continued, "You are the most beautiful person I know," he gave Connor a quick once-over, "and I mean it beside the obvious."

The boy didn't smile at Troye's silly joke though, as he stared back at him solemnly, "You are the most beautiful person I know."

"Now that we've established that, will you kiss me, please?"

Cynical pessimist in Troye expected rejection. Down-to-earth realist in him expected a teasing peck. Hopeless romantic expected a soft and chaste kiss, appropriate for the occasion. He certainly didn't expect what really happened.

He was shoved forcefully to the counter, as Connor's lips smashed against his own desperately, almost aggressively, his nails scraping down Troye's bare forearms, before moving under the fabric of his t-shirt to tease the skin there.

Wrapping his own arms around Connor's body and pulling him even closer, Troye smiled into the kiss, already out of breath after a minute, "You don't kiss like a nice boy."

Connor leaned back to look at him properly, as he raised an eyebrow, "What would you know about nice boys? You've told me plenty of times that you don't do nice."

Troye laughed tentatively, "I do _you._ " Backtracking a little, he cringed, "Wait, that sounded sexual."

It was Connor's turn to laugh, "You know I don't mind." His gaze was fixed at Troye's lips again, making the other boy nervous. "God knows, I've been lusting after you pathetically for quite a long time now."

"You were?" Troye was incredulous.

Connor hid his blush in Troye's neck, as he pressed his lips gently to the area right behind Troye's ear, where the hot breath made the other boy tingly, "At first I was too busy being a jerk, but come to think of it, I've pretty much wanted you since forever."

Troye felt as if there was a tight knot in his stomach. He grabbed Connor's chin, making him look straight at him, as he slanted his eyes challengingly, "I don't believe you." As Connor parted his lips in confusion in order to reply, Troye shushed him, saying instead, "Care for a demonstration?"

So Connor did.

By the time they remembered about the kettle in Troye's kitchen, the water in it had gotten cold again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait, there's gonna be an epilogue shortly.
> 
> Other than that, thank you for being here with me. I never could have expected that such a subdued story as this would receive the amount of positive feedback it did.
> 
> I like to think that this story is not only about Troye and Connor falling in love but also about friendship, becoming better people, maturing and fighting prejudice. I hope this message doesn't get lost. 
> 
> Again, thank you! Hope to see you soon.


	14. Epilogue

Troye thinks a lot. 

He thinks about his friend who hides his sorrow behind his glasses and loud cackle so well that he manages to convince even himself. About a sister who never laughs, except with her brother, and a brother whose laughs could be heard by everyone but smiles could be seen only by the few. About a lost tall boy with a weird accent who never asks for help but is always there when others need his guidance. About teammates who act stupid, and obnoxious, but have become family to each other.

Troye thinks about the boy. 

About a frat party a year ago and a horrid leopard-printed snapback. About the time the only thing they had in common was contempt for each other. About harsh words they both said and angry tears Troye spilt. About midnight phone calls and secret smiles they shared. About songs they listened to in his car and documentaries they watched on his couch. About jokes and hugs that were always a tiny bit inappropriate to be brushed off as 'friendly'.

About bright green eyes that sometimes look at him as if he is a piece of art and not a mere human. About pink lips that always smell of coffee and ask for his opinion as if he is the only person that matters. About warm hands that are so good at holding camera steady and so clumsy when unbuttoning clothes.

Troye thinks about himself too.

How he was quick to judge people by what they appeared to be and how he was proven wrong. How he always thought that he had a type when boys were concerned and how he was proven wrong. How he was convinced that he couldn't fall in love and how he was proven wrong. 

Troye thinks that his life is a never-ending journey to becoming himself and that he is eternally grateful for the companion in this journey that shares his passion for adventure. 

Troye looks down at the boy who rests his head in his lap. 

He can't wait for wherever their journey will bring them.

_**“... maybe someday someone is going to blindside you and not at all be what you expected but they’ll be the exact person that you were looking for without even knowing that you were looking for them.” - Troye Sivan** _


End file.
